IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


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Photographic 

Sciences 
Corporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14580 

(716)  872-4503 


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CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHM/ICMH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microreproductions  /  Institut  Canadian  de  microreproductions  historiques 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  NotM/Notes  techniques  at  bibliographiques 


The  Instituts  hat  attempted  to  obtain  the  best 
original  copy  available  for  filming.  Features  of  this 
copy  which  may  be  bibliographically  unique, 
which  may  alter  any  of  the  Images  in  the 
reproduction,  or  which  may  significantly  change 
the  usual  method  of  filming,  are  checited  beiow. 


D 


D 


D 


i/ 


D 
D 


D 


D 


Coloured  covers/ 
Couverture  de  couteur 


I      I    Covers  damaged/ 


Couverture  endommagie 


Covers  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Couverture  restaur6e  et/ou  pellicui6e 


I      I   Cover  title  missing/ 


Le  titre  de  couverture  manque 


I      I    Coloured  maps/ 


Cartes  gAographiques  en  couleur 


Coloured  init  (i.e.  other  than  blue  or  blacit)/ 
Encre  de  couleur  (i.e,  autre  que  bleue  ou  noire) 


Coloured  plates  and/or  illustrations/ 
Planches  et/ou  illustrations  en  couleur 

Bound  with  other  material/ 
Reli6  avec  d'autres  documents 

Tight  binding  may  cause  shadows  or  distortion 
along  interior  margin/ 

La  reliure  serr^e  peut  causer  de  I'ombre  ou  de  la 
distortion  le  long  de  la  marge  intArieure 

Blanit  leaves  added  during  restoration  may 
appear  within  the  text.  Whenever  possible,  these 
have  been  omitted  from  filming/ 
li  se  peut  que  certaines  pages  blanches  ajouties 
lors  d'une  restauration  apparaissent  dans  ie  texte, 
mais,  lorsque  ceia  6tait  possible,  ces  pages  n'ont 
pas  iti  filmies. 

Additional  comments:/ 
Commentaires  suppl6mentaires: 


L'institut  a  microfilm^  le  meilleur  exemplaira 
qu'il  lui  a  At6  possible  de  se  procurer.  Les  details 
de  cet  exemplaira  qui  sont  peut-Atre  uniques  du 
point  de  vue  bibliographique,  qui  peuvent  modifier 
une  image  reprodulte,  ou  qui  peuvent  exiger  une 
modification  dans  la  mtthode  normaie  de  fiimage 
sont  indiqu6s  ci-dessous. 


I      I   Coloured  pages/ 


n 


0 


D 


This  item  is  filmed  at  the  reduction  ratio  chuclced  below/ 

Ce  document  est  fiimd  au  taux  de  reduction  indiqu6  ci-dessous. 


Pages  de  couleur 

Pages  damaged/ 
Pages  endommagies 


I      I    Pages  restored  and/or  laminated/ 


Pages  restauries  et/ou  pellicul6es 

Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxed/ 
Pages  d6color6es.  tachetAes  ou  piqu^es 


I      I    Pages  detached/ 


Pages  ddtach^es 

Showthrough/ 
Transparence 

Quality  of  prir 

Qualit6  in^gale  de  I'lmpression 

Includes  supplementary  materif 
Comprend  du  materiel  supplAmenteire 

Only  edition  available/ 
Seule  Edition  disponible 


r~7|    Showthrough/ 

r~|    Quality  of  print  varies/ 

I      I   Includes  supplementary  material/ 


/! 


Pages  wholly  or  partially  obscured  by  errata 
slips,  tissues,  etc.,  have  been  refilmed  to 
ensure  the  best  possible  image/ 
Les  pages  totalement  ou  partiellement 
obscurcies  par  un  feuillet  d'errata,  une  peiure, 
etc.,  ont  AtA  fllmAes  A  nouveau  de  fapon  A 
obtenir  la  mellleure  imajie  possible. 


The 
to  th 


Thei 
poss 
of  th 
filmii 


Origi 
begir 
the  it 
sion, 
other 
first 
sion, 
or  iiii 


Thei 
shall 
TINU 
whic 

Maps 

differ 

entire 

begin 

right 

requii 

methi 


10X 

14X 

18X 

22X 

26X 

30X 

/ 

12X 

16X 

20X 

24X 

28X 

'♦■ 

32X 

e 

itails 
8  du 
lodifior 
r  une 
Image 


The  copy  filmed  here  has  been  reproduced  thanks 
to  the  generosity  of: 

National  Library  of  Canada 


The  images  appearing  here  are  the  best  quality 
possible  considering  the  condition  and  legibility 
of  the  original  copy  and  in  keeping  with  the 
filming  contract  specifications. 


L'exemplaire  film6  fut  reproduit  gr&ce  d  la 
g6n6rosit6  de: 

Bibiioth^que  nationale  du  Canada 


Les  images  suivantes  ont  6X6  reproduites  avec  le 
plus  grand  soin,  compte  tenu  de  la  condition  et 
de  la  nettetd  de  I'axemplaire  film6,  et  en 
conformity  avec  les  conditions  du  contrat  de 
filmage. 


Original  copies  in  printed  paper  covers  are  filmed 
beginning  with  the  front  cover  and  ending  on 
the  last  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, or  the  back  cover  when  appropriate.  All 
other  original  copies  are  filmed  beginning  on  the 
first  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, and  ending  on  the  last  page  with  a  printed 
or  illustrated  impression. 


IS 


Les  exemplaires  originaux  dont  la  couverture  en 
papier  est  imprim6e  sont  film6s  en  commenpant 
par  le  premier  plat  et  en  terminant  soit  par  la 
dernidre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration,  soit  par  le  second 
plat,  selon  le  cas.  Tous  les  autres  exemplaires 
originaux  sont  film6s  en  commengant  par  la 
premidre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration  et  en  terminant  par 
la  dernidre  page  qui  comporte  une  telle 
empreinte. 


The  last  recorded  frame  on  each  microfiche 
shall  contain  the  symbol  —^>(  meaning  "CON- 
TINUED'),  or  the  symbol  V  (meaning  "END"), 
whichever  applies. 


Un  des  symboles  suivants  apparaitra  sur  la 
dernidre  image  de  cheque  microfiche,  selon  :e 
cas:  ke  symbole  — ►  signif ie  "A  SUIVRE  ",  le 
symbols  V  signifie  "FIN". 


Maps,  plates,  charts,  etc.,  may  be  filmed  at 
different  reduction  ratios.  Those  too  large  to  be 
entirely  included  in  one  exposure  are  filmed 
beginning  in  the  upper  left  hand  corner,  left  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  frames  as 
required.  The  following  diagrams  illustrate  the 
method: 


Les  cartes,  planches,  tableaux,  etc.,  peuvent  dtre 
filmds  d  des  taux  de  reduction  diffdrents. 
Lorsque  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  dtre 
reproduit  en  un  seul  cliche,  il  est  film6  d  partir 
(i'l''  Tangle  supdrieur  gauche,  de  gauche  d  droite, 
et  de  haut  en  bas,  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'cmages  ndcessaire.  Les  diagrammes  suivants 
illustrent  la  mdthode. 


arrata 
to 


pelure. 
in  A 


1 

2 

3 

32X 


1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

5S 

I 


OUT  OF  THE  WHITE  BLANKNESS  STARTED  LETTERS  RED  AS  BLOOD" 

Sec  page  293. 


.; 


DAYLIGHT  LAND 


; 


'J'iic  Kxpcricnccs,  IiniJrnis,  tvul  Aili'rntiircs,  Ifiimoroits  aiul  Otiur 

7i'is(\  which  bcft'I  yitih^c  ]<^>\\\  i)()i;,  Tourist,  of  San  Fraiicisio ; 

Mr.  Ckimias  I'ki'I'I.rij.i.,  i'af'italisl^  of  Boston ;   CoioncI 

(lOi-'i'K,  thr  A/a/I  fro/11  .\>?i'  I{ompshir,\  ami  itivcrs 

others,  ill  th</r  I'arlor-Car  Jixciirsion  over 

Prairie  and  Aloiintain 


A  1.1.   OF    WPIICH    I    SAW,   AND    ONK    OF    WHOM    I   WAS 

As  recorded  and  set  forth  by 

W.   H.   H.   MURRAY 


JLLUSTRATED   117771  ONE  HUNDRED  AND 
FORTY  tlESlGNS   fN  COLORS 


rNIlI-R    Till-     -rip.K'VI-ION    QV 


J.  W.  MILLET 


I 


r.  OS  TON 

CUPPLES  AND   HURD 
M  D(  cr!,\xx\  in 


I   ^' 


f'opvi'i^lit.  ISSS, 
Br  K.  MAKCI  KKiTA  .MI:i;kay. 

All  riijlds  nticrnil. 


The  lliv^rsirh  Pns^,  Cnmbrirlae  ■ 
Klec-frotypcl  m,\  Prinfcl  hy  H.  O.  IIoM-htnn  *  Oo. 


■s 


To 
GKOIUiK  STKWART,  ,]n.,  D.C.  L.,  D.  Litt.,  K.K.C.s. 

OF  'ii:i:i;EC 

WFIO    II.APPILV    lii;i'HE.SENTS 
TIIU     Bi;sT    THAT    TIIF.RE    IS     IN    CANADIAN    C  Ll.TUllE     ANU    CIiAI(A(Ti;il 

I     1)  i:  I)  I  C  A  T  E 

IN   EVIDENtE    OF    MV    ESTEEM    AND   ADMIRATION 

THIS   VOMME 

TIIK    AfTHOH 


CONTFATS. 


(HAr. 


•  • 


II. 
III. 

IV. 

V. 

VI. 

VII. 

VIII. 

IX. 

X. 

XI 

XII. 


lNTI!l>l>rt  TTON 

'I'm    Mr.KTixc; 

At  IJkiakiast 

A  Vkky  lIoi'Kin.  Man   . 

TiiK  I'jir.  Ni-,iM(i<)N  'I'koct  . 

TnK  Man  in  tuk  Vki.vktkkn  Ja(  kkt 

TlIK  Cai'italist 

A  JoLi.Y  Cami'  at  Ursii  Lakf, 

I)iG  (Jamk 

A  Strange  jMidmght  Ride  . 

Banff  

Namki.kss  Mottntains     . 

SaHHATH    among    TIIK    Moi'NTAlNS 


Pagr 

17 

*.i'.t 

i'J 

,    r>;\ 

tiS 

,    *».") 
.  i;v,» 

IC.T 

ISli 

211 

.  '2'Jl 


1(1 


c'oxrKNrs. 


<'ii\p. 


XIII.    'I'm    (;i!i;.\T  (ii.Acti 


TAOI! 


Xl\'.   Tim    IlniMiT  oi    Fit  \si  u  ("anon 


'J7» 


XV.      ImsII     ANIt    I'iSIIINi;     IN     KlMTISH    CuiIMItlA 


m 


\VI.      V 


A.NCorVIK 


:«>■ 


XVII.    Tin;   l*Ai:ii.\(;  at  \'|(  iokia 


;l»i 


i 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Fia>.M  DKSKiN'S  ItV.I.  I).  W()()|)\VAi;i>.  .1.  ('.  Dl  l;AM),  ('.  KKOICII- 
'i'(>\.  ('.  COl'KLAND,  J.  CAllTEll  IJKAKD,  C.  11.  JOHNSON.  AND 
OI'llKK.S. 


rA(.i. 
"Oct  ok  thk  whitk  ui,a.vk\i;ss  stautkd  lkttkks  i!i;it  as 

lil.doi*" Fruiifts/jii'rr 

Vkrmii.iox  Lakks    ........  \) 

TlIK    ,Iui)(lK  ........ 

TiiK  TnKKK  SisTi:i{s.  Can.mokk         ..... 

"  A    srilol.AULV    LOOKING    .MAX  "  .... 

A    \'t)irK    i.'KO.Ai    TIlK    DOOUWAV  ..... 

"1   (;0   AS    A    rilJJlMM  "  ...... 

"'PlIOl'    SHALT    WlilTK    us"  ....... 

TlIK    l>n\V    HiVKK,    XKAU    CaujAKV  .... 

I.MTIAl.    LkTTKU  ........ 

"Ol'U    HANDS    Miyr    MKi:    A    I'LASir'  .... 

()\     I'lli;    Iv(iAI)    lO   Tin:    (Jl.Ai  IKll 

'•  IIoW    riiKSH    THK    I.AI>Ii:s    ]J)(»k"  .... 

Jackkish   Cu()ssiN(i,  Laki:  Sri'i:i{iou         .... 
Initial   Lkttku    ........ 


10 
11 

17 
IS 


'j;; 

L.M 

'_'S 


lL> 


lASV  OK    II.IJ  STKATIONS 


"Coi-NT  Tin:  <  i,i(  Ks  "... 

Tin:   W.\rii:it 

'I'm    l-'iKsr   liiuixii:  .... 
Till    Uoi'i:   Mitiiiiii:       .... 
('\i;ii;i'i     |{(i\i>    MiMiM.i  .    |''iiA>i:ii    I{i\ii; 
A    l{i:.M,  (Ji:m        ..... 
I{i:i»    IJni  K    AM)   Ni:i'Hio\    \\\\ 

'l'inM>i:i{  C.vi'i:.   liAKK  Si  i-i  imoi: 
I  Mil  A  I,   liiriTKi;         .... 

CkoWImoI'    I'At  A.MI'MKNI' 

Till';  .li  iKii;  <ii.\i!i:ii 


I) 


YNAMirK    IS  N  T    so    I'.Ah.    AriKi;     \l,l, 


fll.'Il'I'IN    l.,AKi:.    KAiil.K    Pass      . 

I  Mil  A  I,   I.i;iti:k  .... 

Civil, l/ATION     MKANS    l,ir\riiV     . 

Fi;\si.;i;  Canon,   ahovk  Sit/./tm 

"  .Ii:ims.m,i;m  !   IIk's  a    rwKN'iv-roi'N 

On    Tin;  Commiua    l{ivi:i:    . 

Salmon   Ca(  mi:         .  .         .         . 

Initiai,    Li;t'ii;i;    .... 

INIr.  Caij|{oi,i,.   kk-om  'imk   Wkst 

Till;   IIackm.vn     .         .         „         . 

Till';  lii'NAWAY  Coi.r 

'•  'I'm;  i)0(i   ANi>  (AT  mi;t  "  . 

A   Minkk's   [Ii  r       .  .         .         . 

IMr.    IMA(  KAV.    NKAK    PoKT    AUTHirR 

Im'I'iai,   I.i;tti:i!         .  .         .         . 

••  I   \y\   i»i;M(iirn;i>  to  <iRi;i;T  vou  " 
'*  HrsTKi),  (■o:\ii'i;kti:ia'  iu'stkd" 
l?i-A('K  Canon      .... 
"*  IIk  i'ollowki)  mi;  "... 
Goats'   IIkads      .... 

"Ox    A    ('l,irF,    STOOD    PKHrifSSIOX  " 

(JoATs*   IIkads      .... 
TiiK  Path  ok  tmi    Avalanc  iik 
TnK  IVFan  ok  Scikxck 
A  TuiAL  OK  STKKxcrni    . 


DKIf 


:!0 


II 


IS 

*■  •  > 
.>.  > 

*■  t  > 
*».  t 

.VI 

.'">7 

i;:; 
('.7 

r.s 
<;.s 

71 
7'.> 

.S7 

1»1 
•r. 

97 
1(»L' 

lo;; 
10.-. 

107 
lo«) 
111 
\]ry 
no 


I 


LIST  Ol"    II,MsTI:aI"|()NS. 


Ki 


;;() 


••  Ifi    -iTin  <  K    iiii:   MAN  <»i-  srii;\M;  "  . 
Ni'Ait    Ui:vi:i,sinKr.  .... 

I\l  I  1  \1,    Ll.l'IKIf 

.1  \(  K   Ostiooi)    . 

I'uiMiTivr,  '"hansi'oki'ai  niN 

Imhan  (JiiM,    . 

Tiir.  Man   I'|{i»\i    Ni:\v   IIa.mi>mii;i 

Kananaskis  Kai,i,s 

Tin;  .MniNiAiN    |j(i\ 

I  Mil  A  I,    Li;iri:i;         ..... 
(il!AV    NN'oM'  ..... 

W II I'll:  'I'Aiii   l)i;i;i;  ..... 

lillTALn  ...... 

AViii;i:   K(i.\       ...... 

iVIrsK  Ox 

l'i;uN(;    II()i;n    Anti;i,(iI'i:  .... 
('Ai;ii;nf        ...... 

liiM  KV     MolNTAIN    <  JoAl     .... 
l{n(  KV    Moi'NTAIN    SlIKKF      . 

'I'm:  iiuv/./.LX   Hi:  A  I!  .... 

M(M)SK  ..... 

Si:a  Ottkh        ........ 

I'xiW    UlVKK    AND    ('.\S(  ai»i:    .Mol' VrA  I  NS.    M:\I!     IlwiK 

Imiiai,    Li;i"n;K         ....... 

I\    I'lii:  Sklkiiiks         ....... 

Kl(  KiNd   IluKSK    Pass        ...... 

.*■  .M'OMAXiroW.    CniKi'    OK    Hl.Ai  KKKKT    .  .  .  . 

Falls  ok  tiik  How.   Hanki'     ..... 

Initial   Lkttkh  ....... 

Tim:   How   Hivki:,  Banki-  ..... 

Mt.    SikI'HKN.  and    (JlACIKH.    AXI)    ('A'I'IIKDItAI.     MoiNT 

Fi;\sKi{  ('a\on.   i:i;low  Nouth   Hknk 

^'KItMILIO\    LakKS  ....... 

Ox    tiik    'loTK    KoAK  ...... 

Van  Hoi;ni:  HAX(ii:     ....... 

Initial   Lkttkk         ....... 

ALi',Ki;r  Canox    . 


AIN 


•-'I 
I'JI 

\'S.\ 
I'J.-i 

I.).  I 

i;5s 
i:i"t 

I  |i> 
I II 
I II 
I  It; 

IIS 

1 1'.> 
i.-.'j 
1.-.4 
1." 

Kit 
ic:; 

ICiCi 

ic: 

Km 
I(')<> 

ITC. 
171) 
1  s;! 
is;; 

is: 
I'.ii 

l!t7 
L'OS 
L'(M.» 
211 

LM1 


14 


Msr   OF    ILI.rsTKAriONS. 


Catiikdrai,   I'kak 

yw.  FiKM.  . 

Ri'1'.v  ("kkkk 
IlKltMIT    R\\<ii: 
Initial   Li/itimi 


LT 


TllKliK    ( OMKS    Ol   l;    <  MlKiiVMAN 


H( 


I 


i:  AK 


A    ]\I()rN'l"AIN     PlCNir     .... 
KasT    OlTKIiTAII,  .... 

'I'nK  ('iiAX('i;i,i,t»K         .... 
Gi;i:at  Gla(  ikk   kkom  tiik  S.vow  Siiki» 
Initial  Lktti;i;   ..... 

CLIMI!IN(i    TlIK    GkKAT    (Jj,A<  IF.K 

Tiik  (Jkkat  (ilaciki;  .... 
]\Ir.   Hi;i;mit.  R(u;i:i;s   Pass 
Sir   Donald         ..... 
Mr.  Stioi'iikn.  kkom    tiik   Kast 
Kicking  Housi;  Lakk.   IIi:(T()k  . 
IvrrrAL   Ijrrrr.K         .... 
Caimiiui^    \VA(i(tN'  Road.  Fkaskh  Caxon 
Ea<jlk  Pkak    ..... 
SvMHOLs  AND   Fi(a'i;i:s 

"Ox    tiik    KOClv    W.VS    A    LKTTKH    '  C  '  "' 

Tn'DIAX    RrKYIN'<4    Gkoind     . 

How     RiVKR         ..... 

CiiixooK   Indians  .... 

Initial  Lkttkr        .... 
IIoi'K  Pkaks         ..... 
Castkllatki)  Clikks.   .\siicrokt 

SaLM(<N'    I)RVIN(i   ..... 

Drvin'o  Gaxdlk   Fish 

Ka.m LOOPS  Lakk  .... 

Initial  Lettkh        .... 

T0SSIX(i    KOR    CORXER    LoTS  . 

Paxoramio  vikw  from   Van-(  (tr\KR 
Ckdar  Trek.  Vancoivkh   Park 
Si'RrcK  Trkk.   \  an('o(V7:i{    Park     . 


;U'J 


'-';;: 
2ir> 

'_'.')S 

2(;() 

L'Cm 
L'71 
L'7;5 
L'74 
L'74 
'J7(; 
L'77 
2S2 
L'S.-) 
'iSS 
L'97 
L".)S 
L".».S 

;;o(> 
;}02 
:i04 
;',(),". 

.",07 
.".07 

:\\~> 


LIST   OK   ILIAJSTRATIDNS. 


15 


Tin;  Bam 

Indian  Cuikk's  (Jl-avk    . 

Pi'lT    lllVKIt 

Jnh'iai.   Lktiki; 
SlWASIl   Canoks    . 
An  ()i,I)  Squaw 
Mkdk  INK  Mas    . 
Jnkian  Hi;k.mit 

.S(.UiA\V    OK   TIIK    IMkDK  INK    MaN 

At  Nkw  Wkst,aii\sji;k    . 
Flatiikad  Imjiaxs 
'Vm:  Pautinc;  .         ,         .  . 

At  TiiK  Station 


•  »«»■- 

.1.)] 

•  »•>»' 

•>'>U 


^^\^:  fit 


"4^^^^^ 


■J 
I 


INTRODUCTION. 


J 


J 


:; 


Speed  the  yoiiig'  guest. 

'•  Whither  art  thou  going',  0  wanderer,  this  siuii- 
mor  ?  "  said  a  i)leasant  voice  from  the  doorway,  as  I 
came  up  the  gravel  walk.  "  Are  }'()U  going  to  tlie 
North  and  the  home  of  ice,  or  to  the  East  and  the 
gates  of  the  morning?  Or  do 
you  long  for  the  odor  of  trop- 
ical Howers  and  the  Hash  of 
colored  win<»s  ?  Or  shall  you 
voyau'e  to  the  West,  that  land 
of  old-time  fahle,  in  which  the 
blessed  lived  ?  Tell  me,  thou 
ranger  of  woods,  with  thy 
whitened  head  and  the  heart 
of  a  hoy,  whither  goest  thou 
this  sunnuer  ?  " 


"  I  am  going,  fair  princess," 
I  said,  imitating  the  lightness 
of  her  phrasing,  —  ''I  am  go- 
ing to  the  West,  to  that  heaven 
of  the  old-time  folk,  where  tlie 
colors    on    the    clouds   are   as 

golden  as  thy  hair,  and  the  sky  as  hlue  as  thine  eyes. 
I  am  going  to  the  West,  fair  princess,  where  the  plains 
are  of  emerald,  the  mountains  snow-crowned,  and  the 
streams  How  yellow  with  gold." 


18 


JNTIiODlCTIOX. 


"  How  o'oest  thou,  0  wanderer  ? "  continued  the 
voice  l)anterin<4ly  from  the  (h)oiw{iy.  "  Has  Phcebus 
loaned  you  his  car  and  taught  you  the  <»;overinnent  of 
his  steeds  ?  Beware  !  Keniend)er  the  fate  of  Phaeton  ! 
Or  has  the  sea  sent  you  word  that  tlie  Dolphins  are 

waiting",  all  harnessed  to  the 
(,  bowl  of  the  pink  pearl  shell  ? 
Or  do  you  go  like  a  true  i)il- 
giini,  with  san(hdled  foot  and 
scall()i)ed  slioon  ?  Is  it  by  the 
poetry  or  prose  of  power  that 
you  are  to  be  drawn  ?  " 

''  ]5y    both,"    I    responded. 

"  The    fate    of    Phaeton    has 

warned    me,   and    the    i)early 

shell   car  of    the  Dolphins   is 

small.     I  go  as  a  pilgrim,  but 

a  pilgrim  favored  by  the  gods. 

I  have  sandals,  and  I  shall  walk 

when  I  choose.     I  have  Avings, 

—  wiuii's  like  an  eai>le's,  and  I 

shall  Hy  where  I  will.      And 

whether  I  fly  or  walk,  I  shall  go  with  eyes  ()i)en." 

"  '  I ! '     You  surely  go  not  alone  !  " 

"  Ay,    alone,"    I     responded,  —  "  alone    with    my 

thoughts  and  my  fancies,   an    endless    train    of   com- 

panicnis." 

''  Bnt  surely  thou  shouldst  take  one  friend  at  least 
for  the  night,  one  comrade  for  the  trail  ?  " 

"  Sweet  spirit,"  I  rejoined,  "  the  cheerful  face,  the 
courteous  tongue,  the  open  hand,  the  honest  heart,  find 


INTllOnrCTION. 


1^ 


frioiuls  wliere'er  thev  <;•().  All  camp-fires  shine  lor 
such,  all  doors  fly  oi)en  at  their  eomiiio-.  The  listen- 
ino-  ear  tiiitls  voice  of  knowledge,  and  for  the  seeinjr 
eye  Gt)d  paints  his  pictures  everywhere.  He  who  takes 
humor  with  him  has  princely  entertainment  with  a 
crust,  and  mirthfulness  laughs  the  long-  road  short. 
The  voung  need  comi)any  beyond  themselves,  hut  with 
the  whitened  head  come  thoughts  which  make  com- 
panionship." 

"  0  wise  phil()soi)her  !  "  exckiimed  the  voice  more 
soberly,  "  hast  thou  a  charm  against  danger  and  an 
amulet  for  ill  ?  Dost  thou  not  fear  to  leave  the  loved 
behind?  " 

"  He  who  loves  takes  all  his  loved  ones  with  him 
where'er  he  goes,"  I  answered.  "  Even  their  cares  and 
wants  abide  with  him,  and  the  air  which  is  forever 
roiuid  him  on  all  sides  is  as  a  polished  mirror  to  re- 
flect their  faces.  Love  owns  imagination,  and  in  it  as 
a  constant  sky  she  sees  forever  all  her  stars  fast  fixed." 

"  H'  we  may  not  go  with  thee,  dear  one,"  she  an- 
swered, "  then  our  conspiracy  must  be  uncovered. 
Each  year  thon  leavest  us  —  it  is  thy  habit,  and  for 
weeks  we  have  mistrusted  thee.  Hence  we  have  coun- 
selled —  we  of  thy  hearth  and  heart  —  and  plotted 
lovingly,  and  I  am  spokeswoman  of  the  plot.  We 
have  decided  we  will  not  let  you  go  unless  you  give 
us  solemn  promise." 

"  Promise  ?  I  will  promise  anything  —  on  such  an 
altar  swear  at  random.  Bring  out  the  household. 
You  are  all  rogues  alike,  for  they  come  (puckly  at  your 
signal,  —  too  quickly  to  be   honest.     Now  see  I   such 


20 


INTKODICTIOX. 


sweet  tviannies  tis  never  blessed  u  kiii«»{loiii.  Who 
could  resist  ?     I  promise  to  ol)ey." 

[She  reads.]  •■'  We  of  thy  house  do  herel)y  {ii»ree 
to  let  thee  <>()  a-journeyin<»'  aj^ain,  and  <»rant  thee  lib- 
erty to  be  «>one  for  many  weeks  or  months,  as  seemetli 
to  thee  i;oo(l, — i)rovided,  that  of  all  lovely  sights,  of 
all  beautiful  thin<;s  and  i)laees  that  thou  seest,  of  all 
strani»e  people  and  uncouth  objects,  of  all  lia])py  days 
and  farcical  conceits,  ah)n<»-  with  all  humorous  incidents 
and  mirthful  experiences,  thou  shalt  write  us  u  full  and 
faithful  account.  And  if  in  journeying  thou  meetest 
with  clever  folk,  Avitli  men  and  women  lifted  with 
mother-wit  to  make  thee  laui>li,  what  they  say  shall  be 
writ  down  for  us,  that  we  Avho  bide  here  while  thou 
farest  on  may  not  be  lonely,  but  share  with  thee  the 
profit  and  entertainment  thou  dost  meet  with.  So 
shall  this  journey  of  thine  be  a  happy  one  in  truth,  to 
all  of  us,  and  all  the  days  be  winged  until  we  meet 
again.     Dost  thou  j)romise  ?  " 

"  Ay,  ay,"  1  answered  briskly.  "  The  yoke  that 
Love  lays  on  us  is  easy  and  the  burden  light.  My  pen 
shall  keep  pace  with  my  feet.  For  your  delight  I 
will  be  tourist  and  scribbler  both.  You  shall  see  what 
I  see,  —  rivers  and  plains,  mountains  and  snow^y  peaks, 
sunrises  and  sunsets,  with  all  their  glow,  and  starry 
nights,  the  works  of  men,  and  the  nobler  works  of 
God.  And  what  I  heai'  to  stir  my  mirth  I  will  send 
you  fairly  written  out ;  so  shall  your  laughter  be  as 
echo  to  my  own.  And  now  the  stirrup-cu}).  I  drain 
it  to  safe-keeping  of  the  house.  We  '11  have  sweet 
meeting  after  many  days." 


n. 


WI 


lO 


L'l>y  ai»ree 
tlioe  lil)- 
s  soeinotli 
sights,  of 
?st,  of  all 
})|)y  (lays 
iiu'ideiits 
full  and 

I  nieetest 
"ted  with 

shall  be 
lile  tliou 
thee  the 
th.  80 
:riitli,  to 
ve  meet 

ke  that 
My  pen 
'lioht  I 
i3e  what 
peaks, 
starry 
)i'ks  of 

II  send 
be  as 
drain 
sweet 


THOU    SHALT    WRITE    US. 


DAVLKUrr    LAND. 


CHAITER    I. 
THE  :mkktin(;, 

Wek'oinc.  old  fiiciid  I      A  IuiikIiimI  tliKUsiiiid  wclcciiiics. 

IIOU  art  the  man  !"  cried  a  voice 
Ix'lniid  mc,  as  I  stepped  out  of  tlie 
hatlu'oom,  ])re])aied  for  the  jdeas- 
uies  of  the  day  as  only  a  man  can 
he  hy  a  hath,  —  "thou  art  tlie  man, 
or  my  eyes  are  hlind,  or  the  man 
that  trailed  that  dreadful  trail  of  the  Staked  Plains  Avith 
me  has  a  douhle." 

"  Judi>e  Doe  !  "  T  cried,  and  our  hands  nu't  like  a 
flash.  "  Not  a  man  on  the  earth  Avould  I  sooner  see  at 
this  minute  than  yourself.  This  n?ai>nificent  room  " — 
and  I  <»lanced  at  the  ele«»'ant  car  —  "  is  not  much  like 
the  spot  where  we  made  our  first  meetino."  And  I 
thoug'ht  of  that  harren  Avaste  of  sand  where  I  ran  across 
him,  without  i»uide  or  water,  as  he  wandered  half  hlinded 


24 


IN'rifODrCTION. 


under  the  awful   lioiit.     "  Do  you   rcniciulx'i'  tlio  cjin- 
tetm  1  j»'Jiv(^  you,  and  how  you  swoio  tliat  tlic  halt'  ])oil- 


niir 


water  in  it  wan  as  cold  as  icud  shorhct 


And   I 


hiuirlu'd  at  the  nicniorv. 

"  And  so  it  was,"  returned  tlie  .)udj»e  stoutly 


"  At 

least,    so    it 


seeniec 
t  ii  a  t 


I   at 


m  o- 


ment,     and 


o 
tl 


f 


o  n  e 


nuir 


I 


am 


roni     vour 


certain,  that 

that     drink 

f 

old  canteen 

saved    my 

life. 


»> 


(.Y^y 


"I  should 
n't     won- 
der,"  I   re- 
-plied.  "For 
"  ' .._-  •'  it'  you   had 

not  had  it 
when  yon  did  you  would  probably  have  been  wan- 
derino"  a  madman  over  the  sands  in  half  an  liour. 
Hut  a  ii«>'  to  the  Staked  Plains  and  the  (dd  memories  ! 
We  are  here  in  this  car,  with  })lenty  to  eat  and  driidv ; 
and  so  tell  me,  where  are  you  j;'oin<>'  ?  ' 

"  I  am  j»'oino-  home  to  the  Golden  Gate,"  he  rej^ied, 
''  and  I  have  come  clean  up  from  \Vashin<»ton  to  take 
this  route.     I  wanted  to  escape  the  dust  and  the  heat 


I 


I"  fJ»p  onn- 
lialf  l),„|. 
And   \ 

h'   ''At 

■sf,  so  it 
'JHt'd  at 
at  nio- 
"t,     iiud 

o  II  e 
»«•  I  am 
aiji,  fli;it 
(liinlv 

your 
canteen 
hI    my 

sJionld 
Av  ()  n  - 

I   re- 

"F„r 
II  had 
lad   it 

wan- 
iiour. 
>nes  ! 
link; 

)lied, 
take 
ijeat 


Tin:   MKKTFXC;. 


2/5 


,ij4 


^T\  of  more  southern  ones,  tlie  al- 
kaU  |»lains,  and  the  hot  hiokiiiH- 
ochred  eanons  and  the  JJuttes, 
whieh  are  all  ri^iit  in  winter, 

1)ut  wliieli  in  niidsununer  make 

^ .  .    _„     ,  . 


me  feel,  as  the  train  ''^ 

rolls  down  into  them,  as  if  I 
were  bein^  pushed  into  the 
mouth  of  an  oven.  An  old 
f'iend  told  me  in  Washinirton 
that  I  could  reach  San  Fran- 
cisco this  way 
without  the 


20 


DAYLKMIT   LAND. 


alkali  dust,  tho  infernal  licat,  and  tlio  j»larin<»-  red 
colors,  lidu  I'our  luindrcd  miles  hetween  «»la(aers,  and 
see  Hueli  .scenery  as  I  never  saw  on  t\u\  ('ontinent,  and 
so  I  am  here.  Hut  where  are  you  j;'oin«;',  (»ld  comrade 
of  hot  Texan  trails  and  arid  Arizona?  Are  you,  too, 
hound  for  the  IMessed  isles  lyin<»"  uiuler  the  sunset?" 

'"  Ay,  uy,"  1  returned  lau«»hinj»ly,  and  in  the  same 
liiiht  strain  that  the  .ludye  had  taken.  "  I  too  am  "O- 
inj»-  to  the  West ;  not  the  West  of  ekissie  fahle,  hut  of 
modern  fact.  1  <»'o,  not  to  reach  home,  nor  escape  dust 
and  heat,  hut  to  see  the  <»reat  mountains  hetween  the 
})rairies  and  the  sea.  1  met  John  Carrol  at  I'arker's,  in 
Boston,  last  week,  —  you  remend)er  Carrol,  the  man  we 
met  amonj;'  the  Nevadas  that  summer  ?  —  and  he  told 
me  that  the  Canadian  scenery  was  beyond  descri[)tion  ; 
that  1  could  ride  three  hundred  miles  alon«»"  «»lacial 
streams,  with  the  <»laciers  from  which  they  How  in 
full  si<»lit,  with  hundreds  of  mountains,  that  have 
not  even  been  named,  risinj^  ten  thousand  feet  above 
the  level  of  the  track ;  and  knowini;"  him  to  be  care- 
ful of  statement,  I  packed  my  valise,  and  here  I 
am. 

"  Here  I  am,  too,  for  about  the  same  reason,"  said 
a  quiet  voice  behind  me,  and  a  hand  stole  slyly  into 
mine ;  and  lookinji^  around,  there  was  Colonel  Gofl'e, 
or,  as  we  facetiously  called  him  durin<^  the  journey, 
"  the  Man  from  New  Hampshire." 

"  You  see,"  lie  continued,  after  I  had  presented  him 
to  the  Judi»e,  "  I  own  a  ranch  somewhere  amonj;'  the 
foot-hills  beyond  Calgary,  and.  my  oldest  boy  is  making 
his  start  in  life  on  it.    He  has  been  out  there  two  years, 


< 


I 


rilK    MKKTINO. 


27 


I.llllln-      ,.^.^1 

aciVis,  jind 
'"('lit,  und 
'  eomnidi* 

.Y"",  too, 
unset  ?  " 

tli<!  same 
>o  am  oo- 
'•',  l)ut  oF 
<*'i|)o  (hist 
^vct'ii  the 
ikei's,  in 
)  man  we 

he  tohl 
•iiptlon  ; 
r  glacial 

flow  in 
at  Jiave 
>t  a  hove 
l)e  eare- 


aml  I  th()iii»'ht  T  would  luii  over  and  s«'«»  how  he  is  get- 
tiiii:-  ah)iiu-.  He  is  to  meet  me  at  some  station  near  tlie 
ranch,  and  is  to  ^o  throu«»h  with  me  to  the  eoast,  for 
h<5  wrote  tliat  he  did  not  wisli  me  to  see  even  the  ranch 
until  1  had  seen  tlie  mountains,  the  «;hieiers,  and  tlie 
great  forests." 

How  (h'hghtrul,  often,  are  tlie  sur])rises  of  travel  ! 
To  think  tliat,  comin;^'  from  (hlferent  parts  of  tlie  world, 
after  years  of  wanderin<>',  without  knowledoe  of  each 
other's  movements  or  purposes,  we  two,  who  had  parted 
years  hefore  in  Arizona,  should  meet  face  to  face  in 
this  palace  car,  travellin«;'  for  almost  the  same  junjiose, 
and  with  the  same  ohject  in  view,  and  that  we  old 
trailers,  who  had  so  often  hivouacked  together,  and 
shared  the  same  hlanket,  should  have  sle[)t  all  nii;ht 
within  a  few  feet  of  eacli  other,  not  knowin<»' !  Are 
the  meetin<»s  of  life  acci(h'ntal,  or  is  there  a  l\)wer 
ahove  us  which  arran«»es  and  compels  the  meetings  and 
partings  of  our  lives  ? 

"  This  is  going"  to  he  a  liappy  journey,"  said  the 
Judge  pleasantly,  as  he  h)oked  at  the  passengers 
gr()uj)ed  here  and  there.  "  I  can  see  it  in  their  faces. 
Bless  me,  how  fresh  the  hidies  h)ok  !  There  is  not  a 
tired  face  in  the  car." 

Dear  old  happy-hearted  Judg-e  !  I  wonder  if  the 
prophecies  of  men  are  not  horn  of  their  moods,  after 
all  ?  For  with  all  thy  nice  taste  and  delicate  sense  of 
the  fit  and  the  needful,  never  did  I  meet  a  lighter  heart 
or  a  iiappier  disposition  than  thine. 

But  indeed  it  was  a  rare  company,  for  it  was  wholly 
composed  of  intelligent  and  refined  people,  accustomed 


28 


DAYLirniT  LAND. 


to  travel,  and  travel-wise.  And  best  of  all,  we  were 
filled  with  euriosity  and  some  of  ns  with  incredulity 
touching  the  wonders  it  had  been  foretold  us  we  should 
see,  —  such  marvels  and  majesties  of  nature  as  in  truth 
make  the  ride  from  Calgary  to  Vancouver  like  a  joiu'- 
ney  through  fairy  and  giant  land. 

Thus,  with  old  friends  unexpectedly  met ;  with  a 
throng  of  bright  and  courteous  people  around  us,  and 
feeling  that  we  were  a  "  goodly  companie  going  to 
seek  goodly  things,"  our  happy  journey,  as  the  dear 
old  Judge  had  prophetically  called  it,  began. 


'j  we  were 
int'iedulitv 
we  should 

i«  ill  tnitli 
^^  «i  joiir- 

;  witli  a 
fl  lis,  and 
S'oing-  to 
tJie  dear 


CHAPTER   II. 


AT    15KEAKFAST. 


A  feast  of  reason  and  a  How  of  soul. 

"  AKE  another  cup  of  this  delicious 
cott'ee,  Judi>e,"  I  said  to  my  coni- 
])anion  at  the  table.  We  are  travel- 
lini»"  like  the  g'ods,  and  it  is  tit  that 
we  should  fare  like  the  gods. 

"  Your  conceit  is  a  happy  one,"  re- 
plied the  Judge,  as  he  inspected  his  cream.  "  This  is 
the  true  nectar  of  Olympus,  if  it  was  drawn  from  the 
udder  of  a  cow.  The  ancients  hit  it  exactly.  Their 
heaven  was  only  the  sublimating  of  the  earth.  Their 
goddesses  were  their  best-looking  women,  their  gods 
crowned  athletes,  and  their  Parnassus  nothing  but  an 


■'li 


30 


DAYLIGHT  LAND. 


nil 
■'I 


idealized  summit  of  a  liill  in  Attica.  We  moderns  sep- 
arate our  heaven  from  the  earth,  Jind  so  h)se  the  beauti- 
ful sequence  of  the  divine  plan.  If  in  the  place  of  the- 
ologians we  had  the  old  sages  again,  our  children  Avould 
be  taught  the  sweet  lesson  that  the  heavenly  is  only 

the  earthly  in  bloom,  and  that 
angels  are  but  men  and  women 
who  have  been  educated  a  little 
higher  up  than  the  schooling 
of  this  life  carries  them." 

"  And  you  might  add,"  I 
suggested,  "  that  this  manner 
of  travel  which  we  are  now  en- 
joying is  only  a  modern  method 
of  Hying." 

"  Certainly,"  said  the  Judge, 
as  he  buttered  his  roll,  "  we 
are  flying.  Count  the  clicks," 
—  and  he  held  up  his  watch,  —  "  forty  in  twenty  sec- 
onds ;  that  gives  us  the  number  of  miles  to  the  hour. 
Forty  miles  an  hour  and  at  breakfast !  Could  an  angel 
keep  her  stroke  with  a  cup  of  coffee  in  her  hand? 
See !  the  li(juid  does  n't  sway  in  the  cup.  I  wonder 
if  the  navvies  that  made  this  road-bed  appreciated  their 
work  ?  " 

"  The  passengers  do,  if  they  did  n't,"  I  responded, 
"  and  that  is  the  important  thing,  perhaps.  The  bee 
may  not  know  the  sweetness  of  its  own  honey  nor  the 
mathematical  perfection  of  its  cell.  But  the  man  gifted 
with  the  delicacy  of  taste  and  the  artistic  senee  appre- 
ciates both.     The  lower  order  does  the  work  and  the 


:# 


AT   liKEAKFAST. 


131 


)flerii,s  sep- 
tJie  heiniti- 
tce  of  tlie- 
len  Avould 
fy  is  only 
and  tJiut 
k1  women 
«fl  a  little 
sclioolinir 

11." 

add,"    I 

inanner 

now  en- 

I  method 

3  Jndo-e, 
>Ii,    "we 

clicks," 
'»ty  sec- 
le  hour, 
n  ano-el 

hand  ? 
wonder 
!cl  their 

onded, 
he  bee 
lor  the 
gifted 
appre- 
1(1  the 


^^ 


higher  one  gives  the  ai)})laiise.     That  seems  to  be  the 
Avay  of  it." 

At  this  moment  we  went  roaring  over  a  bridge 
whose  mighty  span  stretched  in  majesty  a  hundred  feet 
al)()ve  the  mad  water  that  poured  whirling  downward 
below  us.  We  glanced  from  the  window  as  the  run\- 
blinsr  "rave  us  its  siaiial,  and  our  inind  received  this 
photographic  impression  :  A  mountain  to  the  right, 
mounded  like  a  loaf,  and  wooded  perfectly  from  base  to 
dome  ;  to  the  left  a  preci- 
pice, lifting  sheer  half  a  \  .  ,,  .^, 
thousiind  feet  from  the  dark 
pool  lying  sullen  and  black 
in  its  shadow ;  through  this 
gorge  and  beyond,  in  the 
distance,  a  space  of  sky 
shone  like  a  mirror,  and  un- 
der us,  the  white  angry  wa- 
ter,—  a  picture  Hashed  on 
us  in  a  second  and  indeli- 
bly impressed  on  the  mem- 
ory ;  a  picture  which  I  keep 
to  this  day,  and  shall  keep 
till  the  gallery  in  which 
it  hangs,  with  a  thousand 
other  perfect  ones,  crumbles  to  the  foundations. 

"  The  history  of  bridges  is  the  history  of  civiliz^ition," 
remarked  the  Judge.  "  Waiter,  this  steak  is  a  trifle 
underdone.  Tell  the  cook  to  give  it  a  brief  turn  on 
the  iron.  The  cooking  is  excellent  on  this  line,"  he 
remarked,  evidently  forgetting  what  he  was  going  to 


,-*;v. 


32 


DAYLIGHT  LAND. 


say  about  bridges,  "  but  it  is  not  up  to  the  level  of  the 
Hofl'nuui  or  of  Young's  ;  not  quite  up,"  he  continued, 
as  if  he  would,  with  line  judicial  sense,  discriminate  to 
a  nicety  between  degrees  of  excellence  in  a  matter  of 
such  supreme  importance. 

"  One  would  not  expect,  Judge,"  I  remarked,  "  to 
find  so  old  a  traveller  as  yourself  so  particular  touch- 
ins*  the  cookinir  of  a  lillet." 

"  There  is  where  you  mistake,"  responded  the 
Judge.  "  He  who  travels  should  be  an  ei)icure,  for  his 
taste  must  be  cosmopolitan.  He  becomes  accpiainted 
with  the  fruits  and  vegetables  of  every  zone,  the  fish 
of  all  seas,  and  the  meats  of  every  country.  He  ac- 
quires knowledge  not  only  of  the  habits  but  of  the 
beverages  of  all  peoples,  and  of  the  culshie  of  each 
nation.  The  knowledge  of  what  he  should  have 
causes  him  to  insist  on  his  rights,  and  the  cook  who 
sends  me  an  underdone  steak  wrongs  me  as  wofully 
as  a  government  which  should  supi)ress  the  luibeas 
corpu)^.  The  equities  of  the  stomach  should  not  be 
trifled  with,  sir." 

"  But  what  about  the  bridges  ?  "  I  inquired  laugli- 
ingl^y,  "  for  I  must  confess  I  am  more  interested  in 
your  ideas  touching  bridges  than  I  am  touching 
steaks." 

"  I  am  not  responsible  for  your  obtuseness  in  non- 
discrimiuiition  between  relative  values.  But  bridges 
are  a  hobby  with  me,"  retorted  the  Judge.  "  I  studied 
civil  enirineerino;  before  I  did  law,  and  at  that  time  the 
great  bridges  of  the  world  had  not  been  built.  I  can 
remember  when  Stephenson  laid  the  foundation  of  his 


|li 


AT   BREAKFAST. 


153 


level  of  the 
e  continued, 
jriniinate  to 

a  matter  of 

larked,  "  to 
L'ular  toueli- 


fame  with  his  first  bridge,  and  tlie  poetry  of  his  great 
endeavors  impressed  me  profoundly.  For  a  bridge,  sir, 
is  a  poem  put  into  structure,  —  an  imaginatlw  ■■  <»f  the 
mind  materialized.  It  stands  for  an  idea,  the  idea  of 
human  brotherhood  and  the  necessity  of  friendly  ex- 
chans>es,  —  that  the  man  on  the  one  side  of  the  river 


(onded    the 
:iure,  for  his 
acquainted 
lie,  the  fish 
y.     He  ac- 
but  of  the 
nt  of  each 
lould    have 
I  cook  who 
as  w(jfully 
he   lidbeds 
dd  not  be 

Led  lauo-li- 

erested  in 

touchiuii' 

iS  in  non- 
it  bridjies 
I  studied 
t  time  the 
t.  I  can 
on  of  his 


cannot  get  along  without  hell)  from  the  man  on  the 
other  side." 

"  Who  built  the  first  bridge,  Judge  ?  "  inquired  the 
Man  from  New  Hampshire.  "  Who  built  the  first 
bridge  ?  " 

"  It  was  n't  built,"  replied  the  Judge  ;  "  it  was  a  gift 
of  nature  in  the  form  of  a  tree,  which  the  winds  over- 
turned,  so  that  it   stretched  its   trunk  of  solid   wood 


u 


DAYI.KillT   LAND. 


f'roiu  bunk  to  bank  of*  tbe  stieuni,  or  from  edge  to  e(l<»e 
of  the  ehtism,  —  u  bridj^e  for  the  panther  and  bear  as 
well  as  for  the  hunter,  over  the  buttresses  of  Avliieh 
leaves  waved,  and  vhies  twhied  their  foliage,  and  under 
which  the  torrent  thundered  and  wlurled.  Man  never 
built  a  bridge  so  lovely  to  look  upon  as  those  1  have 
seen  in  the  woods,  wind-blown  to  their  jjlaees,  —  the 
wind-blown  bridge  of  the  forest." 

"  Bravo  !  bravo  !  "  I  exclaimed,  and  I  fluttered  the 
napkin  gaUantly.  "  Bravo,  Judge  !  The  poetry  of 
the  theme  has  found  its  poet."  And  I  passed  him  a 
section  of  a  delicious  French  omelet. 

"  A  reminiscence  of  Paris,"  remarked  the  Judge, 
smilinsf  as  he  received  it. 

"  More  substantial  than  the  pleasures  of  memory," 
added  the  New  Hampshire  man  quietly  j  and  he  told 
the  waiter  to  duplicate  the  Judge's  order. 

"  There  is  a  characteristic  among  you  New  Hamp- 
shire men  that  I  admire,"  remarked  the  Judge.  "  You 
know  a  good  thing  when  you  see  it,  and  you  see  it 
mighty  (piick." 

"  I  see  an  omelet  mighty  (piick  when  it 's  as  good  as 
yours,"  Avas  the  retort. 

"  The  gentlemen  are  out  of  order,"  I  exclaimed,  rap- 
ping on  the  table.  "  The  question  before  the  house 
is  one  of  bridges." 

"  Bridge  number  two,"  said  the  Judge,  "  is  that  of 
the  settler :  two  ropes,  often  woven  from  roots,  with 
wooden  slats  intermediate.  Then  comes  the  bridge 
with  wooden  stringers,  planked  for  heavier  travel ; 
then  the  long  enclosed  bridge.     Mounting  still  higher 


AT   HKKAKl  AST. 


35 


Ige  to  ecl<»e 
111(1  bear  ;is 
s  of  wliicli 
,  and  under 
Man  never 
ose  1  have 
■ices,  —  tlie 

Littered  tlie 

poetry  of 

ssed  liiin  a 

the  Judg-e, 

memory," 
id  he  told 

ew  Hamp- 
»e.  "  You 
you  see  it 


as  o()od  as 


imed,  rap- 
the  house 

is  that  of 
oots,  with 
le  hridg-e 
r  travel ; 
ill  higher 


in  the  rising;  scale  is  Ste})hens.)n's  great  work,  the 
Vi('t(?ii;i  IJiidge,  old  style  now,  l)ut  nevertheless  a  great 
acliicvement  in  engineering,  with  its  monstrous  ahut- 
ments  and  its  thirty  acres  of  painted  surface.  Rising 
still  higher,  we  come  to  the  Suspension  Bridge  at  Ni- 
agara, and  the  magniticent  cantilever  structure  of  this 


road  on  which  we  are  riding,  at  Lachine ;  and  crown- 
ing all,  the  g-reat  Brooklyn  Bridge,  over  which  half  a 
million  human  beings  pass  each  day.  I  tell  you,  gen- 
tlemen," exclahned  the  Judge  earnestly,  "  the  histcjry 
of  bridge-building,  from  that  Avind-ldown  tree-trunk  in 
the  woods  to  the  latest  achievement  in  en"ineerin": 
skill,  is  the  history  of  the  human  race  not  only  in 
.naterial  progress,  but  in  the  apprehension  of  man's 
need  of  his  fellow-man  and  the  brotherhood  of  the 
race.  Every  achievement  of  man  is  communal.  Every 
embellishment  in  this  car  makes  companionship  more 
entertaining,  and  draws  us  closer  together  by  the  bond 
of  common  refinement."      And  the  Judge  proceeded 


m 


DAVIJdllT    l.ANU. 


to  full   oiir  Mttcntioii,  with  ciitieai  a[)|)i't'ciiition,  to  tlic 
eaivi'd,  thf  bronzed,  and  tlic  onanielli'd  ek'ii'ant't'  ol'  tlio 


ear, 


a 


Tliat  })ietnre  reminds  nie,"  said  tlie  New  J  lamp- 
shire  man,  pointinj^'  to  one  of  the  endjelhslunents,  a 
beantit'nl  hit  ot*  .Japanese  enamelling,  —  "■  of  a  little  hit 


of 


1> 


d 


K'rsonal  exnerienee 


j> 


"Waiter,"  said  the  .Jud<>e,  "  bring  us  another  pot 
of  eolfee  and  a  jug  of  eream.  Thank  heaven,"  he 
ejaeuhited,  "  that  1  have  lived  to  see  the  day  when  one 
railroad  management  is  so  intelliuent  as  to  reeounize 
the  fact  that  a  man  who  is  rieh  enough  to  pay  ten 
dollars  a  day  to  travel  in  a  palaee  ear  is  aeeustomed  to 
have  real  eream  in  his  eolfee.  Now,  Coh)nel/'  he 
eontinued,  after  he  had  poured  the  rieh  eream  slowly 
in  his  eup  and  as  slowly  ])oured  the  hot  fragrant  eolfee 
u})on  it,  "  I  am  ready  for  your  story.  I  hope  it  will 
have  the  flavor  of  true  humor  in  it  as  this  eolfee  has 
the  flavor  of  real  Java,"  and  he  si})ped  the  delieious 
beverage  with  the  delieaey  of  one  gifted  to  enjoy  the 
good  things  of  this  world. 

"  Oh,  it  isn't  nuudi  of  a  story,"  replied  the  Colonel 
pleasantly,  —  "  merely  a  little  ineident."  And  he  filled 
his  own  eu[)  contentedly.  "  It  was  in  18(38,  or  tliere- 
alxmts,"  (piietly  continued  the  Colonel,  "  when  the 
Orient  began  to  ]  •)ur  the  treasures  of  her  art  produc- 
tions, via  New  Jersey,  into  Boston,  where  alone  the 
culture  to  discriminate  between  the  false  and  the  true 
in  art  is  to  be  found,  you  know,  that  I  was  suddenly 
seized,  as  were  many  others,  with  the  '  Japanese  craze.' 
It  was  a  pretty  bad  attack,"  he  continued  reflectively. 


'^ 


itioii,  to  the 
L;';mc('  ol  tlu* 


New  lliiuij)- 
lislmu'iits,  a 
)f  ii  little  hit 

anotlier  i)()t 
lieaveii,"  he 
ly  when  one 
to  recoii'nize 
to  pay  ten 
eiistonied  to 
Jolonel,"  he 
ream  slowly 
LO'nint  collee 
hope  it  ^vilI 
4  eolt'ee  has 
he  delicious 
o  enjoy  the 

the  Colonel 
11(1  he  filled 
8,  or  tlieie- 

Avhen  the 
lit  j)i'o(lue- 

alone  the 
id  the  true 

s  suddenly 
lese  craze.' 

eflectivelv. 


41 


■St 

.'4 


CARIBOU    ROAD    BRIDGE,   FRASER. 


'Ill 


III,     1 


f 
I 

I! 


AT    H  UK  A  K  FAST. 


30 


— "  .1  protty  Imd  Jittjick.  Tlu'  papers  wcic  full  of  it. 
Kvt'ryl)()(ly  was  tallviii^-  and  writing-  ahout  .lapaiu-se 
art.  Now  when  I  l)«iy  aiiytliinn  I  want  it  to  he  lirst- 
class,  soiiu'thinj;'  to  ha  proud  of,  and  fccliii;;'  mistrust- 
ful of  n»y  own 
knowledge,  I  went 
to  one  of  the  lead- 
ers in  Boston  art 
circles,  and  lu'<;<;('d 
him  to  uive  nit»  the 
henetit  of  his  edu- 
cated taste.  lie 
kindly  consented  to 
do  so,  and  advised 
me  to  allow  him  to 
purchase  a  .Japa- 
nese screen,  as  that 
would  he  a  very 
heautiful  and  at- 
tractive addition  to 
the  furniture  of  my 

parlor.  1  oave  him  the  money  which  he  said  would  he 
needed  to  purchase  a  tirst-class  article.  It  was  a  [)retty 
steep  sum  for  a  screen,  I  tliouj^ht,  but  1  knew  I  could 
not  expect  to  <»'et  a  real  <>em  without  payin«»'  for  it. 
Well,  the  <>'entleman,  after  several  days  of  hd)or  exclu- 
sively devoted,  as  he  assured  me,  to  visitinj»-  the  vari- 
ous '  Eastern  Bazaars,'  durino-  which  he  exhausted  the 
focalizino'  power  of  several  eyeglasses,  succeeded  in 
findin«»-  what  he  was  after,  a  real,  <»enuine,  first-class 
specimen   of    Japanese  art,   and   the   hu<»e   screen    was 


10 


DAYLKiin    LAM). 


sent  down  t(»  my  oHic*'.  It  u'jis  ccitMliily  a  wondnful 
ri'cation.  Tlu'ic  was  a  lar^c-sizcd  Diirliaiii  row  in  llu* 
centre  oi'  tlie  screen,  witii  an  almond-eyed  milUmaid,  in 
a  vei'V  low-necl\ed  dress  and  lii^li-lieeled  Fn-ncli  shoes, 
milkinii  her.  Tlie  ri<>ht  eve  oF  the  cow  was  fixecl 
intently  on  tlie  ri^ht-hand  corner  of  the  screen,  whik» 
the  h'f't  lilared  strai}>ht  at  vou.  One  ev«'  was  consiih-r- 
al)ly  lar<;('r  tlian  tlie  other,  and  of  a  dilVerent  color. 
1  natnrally  conclnded  that  this  was  a  characteristic 
of  .lapanese  cows,  and  mentally  made  a  note  of  it  for 
nse  if  I  should  ever  he  called  upon  to  discuss  the  pecu- 
liarities of  Oriental  art.  1  made  a  memorandum  also 
of  the  fact  that  there  was  only  half  of  the  cow's  tail 
in  the  jncture,  hut  as  the  artist  liud  for«»<)tten  to  j)aint 
in  ji  fly  for  her  to  practice  at,  that  did  not  nuu'h  matter. 
To  the  front  and  at  the  U'ft  of  tlu^  cow  sat  a  Gordon 
setter,  ahout  half  the  size  of  the  cow  and  twice  as  tall 
as  the  oirl.  The  picture  all'ected  me  so  strongly  that 
after  1  studied  it  closely,  o<)t  a  photo«»Ta})h  of  it  on  my 
mind,  as  it  were,  1  (piietly  shipped  it  uj)  to  my  farm 
in  New  Hampshire,  where  I  felt  tlune  would  be  room 
enou<»li  for  it,  aid  it  could  add  some  warmth  to  the 
landscape.  1  h()[)ed  also  that  amon«»'  my  old  country 
neiu'hhors  who  had  nevtn-  studied  liiah  art  in  Boston  it 
would  find  plenty  of  admirers,  be  a  kind  of  surprise, 
so  to  s[)eak.  This  would  have  been  all  ri<»ht  and  safe 
enouob  if  niy  housekeei)er  had  been  a  woman  of  sense 
and  had  acted  with  any  jud«>'ment ;  but  while  cleanino^ 
the  house  one  day,  she  thoughtlessly  set  tlie  screen  out 
i>n  the  lawn,  and  a  series  of  terrible  results  followed. 
In  the  first  pkice,  a  herd  of  cows  that  a  neighbor  was 


A'l'    nUKAKI'AST. 


II 


H   W()||(l(>|f'||f 

I  COW  in  (ho 
iiilkin.iid,  in 
'■•'ncli  sliocs, 
^vas   fixed 
nevu,  while 
!»H  consich'i- 
'ivnt   nAov. 
laractciistic 
B  of  it   foi- 
ls the  |)('cii- 
•H'lnin  also 

fow's  tail 
"  to  paint 
(•!»  matter. 

«i  Gordon 
i<*t'  Hs  tall 
>noly  th;,t 

it  on  my 
my  farm 

1)0  room 
til  to  the 

t'onntrv 
IJoston  it 
surprise, 
iind  safe 
of  sense 
eleaninc* 
leen  out 
bl  lowed. 
il>or  was 


innoct'iitly  <lriviii«;'  alou*;'  the  street  ean<^ht  a  glimpse  of* 
tilt'  cow  (Ml  the  screen  and  stampeded.  The  hanidess 
old  man  was  Unoclved  down  and  sj-riously  injured,  wliile 
tiu'  cows  never  stopped  running-  until  they  ^dt  into  the 
next  township,  where  tiiey  were  impounded  as  vagrants, 
and  that  led  to  a  lawsuit  which  lasted  two  or  three 
years  and  impoverished  several  families.  Next  a  favor- 
ite  doj;'  (d'  mine,  while  chasing'  a  rahhit  up  the  road, 
saw  the  (iordon  setter  on  the  screen,  and  dropjied  dead 
in  his  tracks.  Then  a  j»()od,  honest,  faithful  ^irl  who 
did  th(>  milking'  for  the  family  W(>nt  out  and  studied  the 
milkmaid  on  the  screen  for  several  minutes,  and  Lioini;' 
hack  into  the  house,  promptly  a|>plied  for  her  wa^cs  "  — 
"That  will  do,  (Jolonel,"  interru|»ted  the  .lu(li;(',  lis- 
in^',  '"  that  will  do  for  your  lirst  one."  And  we  all 
started  for  the  smokin<;-room. 


I 


Id      ' 


"*^^M|PMWhite»V'- ■ 


^"^w^yrrapw* 


rtrfclmitaifci 


^'j^yjfljjgi''^ 


CHAPTER   III. 


A    VERY    HOrEFl^L    MAN. 


Hope  springs  eternal  in  the  human  breast. 


HE  ancients  dreamed  of  monstrous  be- 
inc^s,  possessed  of*  monstrous  power. 
The  Christian  Scriptures  tell  of  a  time 
when  there  were  oiants  on  the  earth, 
and  the  sons  of  God  married  the 
dauo^hters  of  men,  namely,  of  a  time 
when  the  supernal  forces  were  in  alliance  with  the 
natural,  and  the  hidden  energies  of  the  up})er  rein- 
forced those  of  the  lower  sphere.  Mytholooy  is  full 
of  the  same  lofty  ima<»inino's.  Creatures  of  gij^an- 
tic  size  are  projected  upon  her  canvas  :   Cyclops,  vast, 


lii' 


% 


A   VERY    HOPEFUL   MAN. 


415 


"1 


p^^^-^ 


trous  })e- 
s  power. 
i)f  d  tiin« 
lu'  earth, 
lied  the 
F  a  time 
ntli  tlie 
•er  reiii- 
y  is  full 
'  gij^an- 
)s,  vast, 


■S 
.-■'i' 


abnormal  in  stren<»tli,  one-eyed  like  the  headlight  of 
our  eniiine.  Had  the  man  who  invented  the  Cyeloi)s 
invented  an  engine  also,  I  wonder?  Certainly,  an  old- 
fashioned  Cych)ps  would  seem  no  more  grotescjue  or 
appalling  to  modern  scholars  than  a  Mogul  engine  to 
a  native  on  the  banks  of  the  And)esi  or  the  shores  of 
the  Nyanza.  Then  there  was  Vulcan,  that  mighty 
armorer  for  the  gods  ;  and  Atlas,  on  whose  broad 
shoulders  rested  the  world ;  and  jMinerva,  Hashing" 
courier  of  the  Empyrean  ;  and  later  on  came  Thor 
with  his  lianmier,  pulverizer  of  mountains,  and  the 
whole  body  of  folk-lore  threaded  through  and  through 
with  the  puissance  of  dwarf  and  gnome,  of  fairy  and 
s[»rite.  All  these  and  other  fashionings  of  the  human 
mind,  purely  fanciful  or  semi-real,  have  come  down  to 
us  from  that  nuirmuring  past  of  which  nothing  re- 
mains save  its  nuirmurings,  all  sugi»estive  of  measure- 
less  energies,  gigantic  forms,  and  mighty  forces.  The 
old-time  world  at  least  dreamed  of  almost  infinite  power 
and  the  works  of  it,  in  connection  with  human  forms, 
or  forms  sugg-ested  by  the  human." 

Something  like  this  was  said  l)y  a  scholarly-looking" 
man,  who  stood  with  the  rest  of  us  on  the  platform  of 
the  rear  car  of  the  train,  as  it  whirled  round  the  cliff 
which  brought  us  in  sii»ht  of  the  blue  waters  of  Lake 
Superior,  as  they  sparkled  and  flashed  brightly  under 
the  light  of  the  morning.  He  who  has  rolled  for  fifty 
miles  along"  the  shore  of  this  majestic  bodv  of  inland 
water,  who  has  seen  the  summer  sky  archino-  the  blue 
dome  above  it,  its  forest-covered  islands,  the  hundreds 
of  islets   that  dot  its  surface,  its   curving  beaches   of 


J 
I 


»if 


.1 


44 


DAYLKillT  LAND. 


brown  and  yellow  sand,  its  deep,  secluded  bays  and 
rocky  promontories,  has  looked  upon  one  of  the  most 
entertaining  and  charminj^  pictures  of  the  continent, 
—  a  picture  Avhicli  delights  the  beholder  as  he  gazes, 
and  remains  fixed,  with  all  its  changeful  colors,  in  his 
memory  ever  after. 

"  What  the  ancients  dreamed,"  remarked  the  Judge, 
referring  to  what  the  scholarly-looking  man  had  said^ 
"  we  moderns  see  realized.  Our  telegraph  is  swifter 
than  Minerva  ;  and  that  common  laborer,  who  is  guard- 
ing that  bridge  yonder,  can  for  a  shilling  send  a  mes- 
sage faster  than  they  ever  dreamed  Jupiter  could  do  it. 
Atlas  is  no  longer  a  myth.  We  to-day  know  the 
})()wer  that  holds  up  the  world  :  it  is  the  same  that 
keeps  this  car  on  the  track  —  gravitation.  Cyclops  is 
no  longer  a  terror.  He  is  ahead  of  us,  and  our  engi- 
neer has  him  in  perfect  control.  Thor  is  our  servant, 
and  he  pulverizes  mountains  at  so  much  a  cubic  foot ; 
while  the  gnome  that  bored  its  way  through  this  spur 
of  quartz,  tunnelling  it  for  our  passage,  is  the  diamond 
drill."  And  as  the  .ludge  concluded  the  sentence,  we 
all  retired  into  the  car,  to  escape  the  smoke  and  the 
^-inders. 

"  It  seems  to  me,"  continued  the  scholarly-looking 
man,  after  we  were  seated,  'that  the  thinkers  of  the 
world  get  more  credit  than  they  should,  as  compared 
with  the  doers.  My  life  has  been  spent  in  the  i)ur- 
suit  of  letters,"  he  continued,  "  and  my  thoughts  have 
been  favored  with  a  kindly  reception  by  the  world  ;  my 
writings  have  brought  me  both  money  and  fame.  But 
as  I  have  seen  the  excavations  along  this  line ;  as  I 


(I  bays  and 
^f  the  most 
i  continent, 
^  lie  gazes, 
ylors,  in  liis 

the  Judw 
1  had  saifl^ 
•  is  SM'if'ter 
0  is  guard- 
end  a  mes- 
ould  do  it. 
know  tlie 
same  tliat 
Cych)ps  is 
our  engi- 

ir  servant, 
uhie  foot ; 
til  is  spur 
J  diamond 
itence,  we 
)  and  tlie 

y-looking 
fs  of  the 
•ompared 
the  ])ur- 
hts  have 
)rld;  my 


But 
;  as  I 


> 

o 


n 
z 
o 


€ 


1,1 

4 


ill. 


Ill 


111.  |. 


1 
■9. 


A  VERY  HOPEFUL  MAN. 


47 


have  been  rolled  over  its  bridges,  and  noted  that  the 
fairy-like  iron  structure  beneath  nie  gave  no  tremor ; 
as  I  have  seen  that  the  solid  sides  of  clift's  had  been 
cut  out  for  our  path  as  if  they  were  made  of  chalk, 
1  have  felt  that  the  words,  and  even  the  thou<»Iits,  of 
men,  however  eloquently  expressed,  were  as  nothing' 
when  compared  with  their  deeds.  I  know  not  who 
built  this  road,  whose  imagination  audaciously  con- 
ceived it,  or  whose  courage  constructed  it ;  but  who- 
ever did  do  it  has  in  it  erected  an  imperishable  monu- 
ment." 

"  It  is  indeed  a  magnificent  result,"  said  a  gentle- 
man, an  old,  gray-headed  engineer  from  Nebraska,  who 
surveyed  the  route  for  the  Union  Pacific,  and  made  for 
himself  a  name  in  that  and  other  trans-continental 
enterprises,  —  "a  magnificent  work  indeed."  And  he 
gazed  thoughtfully  through  the  open  door  at  the  level 
road-bed  and  gleaming  rails.  "  It  cost  not  only  mil- 
lions of  money,  but  human  lives  as  well,"  he  continued. 
"  On  this  very  section,  within  a  space  of  twenty  miles, 
over  two  millions  of  dollars'  worth  of  dynamite  was 
used,  and  some  men,  I  am  told,  were  wounded  or 
bloAvn  to  pieces." 

'^  Dreadful  1  "  exclaimed  the  scholarly-looking  man. 
'•  What  more  horrible  death  could  a  man  die  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  regard  death  by  dynamite  as  the  worst  of 
accidents,"  said  a  voice. 

"  The  devil !  "  exclaimed  the  Judffe.  "  What 's 
that,  sir  ?  "  and  every  eye  in  the  compartment  was  sud- 
denly fixed  upon  the  man. 

He  was  not  a  large  man,  he  was  even  a  small  one, 


.4 1 

I 

'  •<  I 


f:   2' 


48 


DAYLKJIIT  LAND. 


and  there  was  iiotliino-  fierce  or  reckless  in  his  appear- 
ance, nor  would  one  pick  him  out  as  a  man  specially 
endowed  with  coura«»e,  or  even  gifted  with  extraordi- 
nary persistence.  He  was  not  a  man  of  full  hahit,  but 
spare  in  Hesh.  His  complexion  was  sallow  and  leath- 
ery.    He  had  large  gray  eyes,  weakly  prominent,  and 


'"% 


..jT 


somewhat  faded.  His  hair  was  thin,  not  positive  in 
color,  and  his  neck  had  but  little  base  to  it.  Not 
one  of  us  had  even  noticed  him  before.  Indeed,  we 
might  have  ridden  with  him  for  days,  and  not  one  of 
us  would  have  noticed  him,  had  he  not  given  utter- 
ance to  such  a  horrible  sentiment,  an  expression  which 
sounded  all  the  more  horrible  because  of  the  mildness 
of  the  tone  which  accompanied  it. 

"  I  said,"  repeated  the  little  man,  looking-  benevo- 
lently at  the  Judge,  —  "I  said  I  did  not  regard  death 
by  dynamite  as  the  worst  of  accidents." 


{< 


A  VERY  IIOPKFUL  MAN. 


49 


his  uppear- 

11   .specially 

extraoi'di- 

[  habit,  but 

and  leath- 


iiiiieiit,  and 


lositive  in 
it.  Not 
iideed,  we 
lot  one  of 
veil  utter- 
ion  whieli 
3  iiiildneFS 

benevo- 
ird   death 


The  Judire  ""hired  at  the  Httle  man  for  a  moment 
thi'ou<»li  his  eye«j;lasses.  He  removed  the  "lasses  from 
his  nose,  .viped  them  carefully,  and  rei)hicin<>'  them, 
took  another  savage  look  at  the  man,  who  sat  (piietly 
in  the  corner. 

"  Gad,  sir  !  "  he  exclaimed,  at  length.  "  /  can't  con- 
ceive a  worse  death  than  being  blown  to  pieces,  cpiick 
as  a  Hash,  without  any  warning,  —  think  of  it,  sir,  — 
by  dynamite ! " 

"  No  doubt,"  returned  the  little  man,  mildly,  "  such 
a  death  is  somewhat  sudden,  and,  i)liysically  considered, 
is  liable  to  make  a  total  wreck  of  a  man.  The  con- 
ductor told  me  a  few  minutes  a<>o  that  one  of  the 
gentlemen  wh"  was  dynamited  was  actually  distributed 
—  that 's  the  word,  as  I  recall  it,  that  he  used  —  so 
much  so  that  there  was  never  anything  found  of  him, 
only  a  thumb  or  some  such  thing ;  not  enough,  it  was 
decided  by  the  authorities,  to  make  a  funeral  of.  Never- 
theless, I  still  respectfully  maintain  that  worse  things 
can  happen  to  a  man  than  death  by  dynamite." 

I  will  confess  that  I  was  never  more  shocked  in  my 
life  than  at  the  horrible  account  which  the  little  man 
in  the  corner  had  givf  n  of  one  of  the  sad  accidents 
which  had  occurred  during  the  building  of  the  road, 
and  it  was  made  all  the  more  horrible  from  his  manner 
of  telling  it ;  for  he  had  told  the  dreadfid  tale  in  the 
cab  ^est  and  most  placid  of  tones,  his  miid,  large  gray 
eyes  fixed  calmly  on  the  face  of  the  Judge,  and  with- 
out the  least  movement  whatever  of  any  feature  of  his 
face.  I  think  I  may  safely  say  that  every  other  gentle- 
man of  the  party  felt  in  the  same  way,  and  that  the 


"■ti 


'  f] 

m 


n 


'  I 


50 


DAYLICillT   LAND. 


ill:    t 


eyes  of  all  of  us  were  directed  upon  him  in  amazement, 
not  to  say  indi<»i)ation. 

"  What  could  a  man  meet  that  would  be  more  dread- 
ful ? "  exclaimed  the  Judge,  excitedly,  and  he  f^lared 
at  the  inoffensive  stranoer  through  his  eyeghisses  as  if 
he  would  i)erforate  him. 

The  stranger  never  winced  under  the  stare  of  the 
Judge.  He  did  not  even  a[)})ear  nettled  in  the  least, 
for  his  eyes,  without  a  shade  of  change  in  their  expres- 
sion, fixed  their  gaze  placidly  upon  him,  level  with  his 
own. 

"  We  judge  of  these  things  probably  from  the  stand- 
point of  experience,"  he  mildly  remarked,  "  and  I  have 
personally  experienced  many  thing's  worse  than  dyna- 
mite." 

"  We  should  be  pleased,  sir,  to  hear  of  your  expe- 
riences," sneeringly  remarked  the  Judge,  and  his  hjok 
was  one  calculated  to  burst  his  eyeglasses  from  their 
frames. 

"  It  is  not  worth  your  attention,  gentlemen,"  he 
replied  pleasantly,  bowing.  "  It  is  not  worth  your 
attention,  I  am  (piite  sure,  for  I  have  in  one  sense  had 
nothing  remarkable  happen  to  me,  and  I  v/ill  detain 
you  but  a  moment,  and  that  because  you  pleasantly  in- 
sist upon  it,"  —  a  hit  which  must  have  made  the  Judge 
wince.  And  resuming,  he  gave  us  the  following  vindi- 
cation of  his  judgment  :  — 

"  I  have  been  slii})wrecked,  been  baked  in  a  railroad 
accident,  and  fired  out  of  a  foundry  window  by  a  boiler 
explosion.  I  was  Jiot  in  the  neck  at  Gettysburg,  suf- 
fered starvation  b.  Libby  Prison,  fell  overboard  from  a 


■'^f 


A    VERY    HOl'KKri.   MAN. 


rA 


aiiiazenient, 

more  dreud- 
I  lie  <»lare(l 
^hisses  as  if 

tare  of  the 
in  the  least, 
heir  expres- 
*el  witli  his 

1  the  stand- 
and  I  have 
than  dyna- 

yoiir  expe- 
id  his  hjok 
from  their 

lemen,"  he 

vorth  your 
sense  had 

v.'ill  detain 
asantly  in- 
the  Judo'e 

A'ing'  vindi- 

a  raih'oad 
by  a  boiler 
diuro',  suf- 
ird  from  a 


trans])ort  oil'  Charleston,  and  left  four  of  my  fin«;ers 
in  the  mouth  of  a  shark.  1  had  my  ri<»ht  arm  broken 
in  two  i)laees  in  a  New  York  riot,  and  stood  on  a  bar- 
rel with  a  halter  round  my  neck  in  a  Southern  town,  at 
tlie  outbreak  of  the  ••reat  Rebellion,  from  sunrise  to 
sunset.  I  was  buried  under  the  ruins  of  a  buildini;'  in 
San  Francisco  durino-  an  eartlupiake,  and  (hi<»()ut  after 
Hftvliours  of  imprisonment.  I  have  been  siu)t  at  three 
times,  twice  by  lunatics  and  once  by  a  hii»hwayman. 
1  was  buried  two  (hiys  by  a  <»'as  explosion  in  a  mine, 
and  narrowly  escaped  lynchino"  last  year  in  Arizona 
throuL"!!  mistaken  identity.  And  th()u«»h  I  am  over 
fifty,  and  have  nearly  lost  the  use  of  my  ri<»ht  le*;' ; 
have  just  had,  as  I  understand,  all  my  pro))erty,  on 
which  tiiere  was  no  insurance,  destroyed  by  hre  in  a 
Western  town  ;  and  the  doctor  in  New  York  to  Avhom 
I  went  last  week  for  an  examination  assures  me  that  I 
will  soon  be  bedridden  from  rheumatism,  nevertheless," 
he  added  cheerfully,  "  while  I  undoubtedly  have  met 
some  obstacles  in  the  past,  I  still  refuse  to  believe  that 
luck  is  against  me." 

It  was  not  a  question  of  propriety  —  none  of  us 
thought  of  that.  Had  we  done  so  our  action  mi<»ht 
have  been  dilferent.  But  at  the  conclusion  of  the 
little  man's  narration  of  his  experiences,  of  the  his- 
tory of  his  life,  there  went  up  a  roar  of  laughter 
that  might  have  lifted  the  truck  from  the  rails.  In- 
deed, it  broke  up  the  party.  One  after  another,  we 
went  forward  to  the  main  compartment  of  the  car,  and 
took  our  usual  seats.  Several  of  the  gentlemen  appar- 
ently began  to  read,  but  I  noticed  that  they  held  their 


'4\ 


M 


■^. 


II 


i 


I 


n 


I:'         I'l 


52 


DAYLKJIIT    LAM). 


|>ji|H'rs  as  if  they  were  near-sighted,  and  that  the 
pa[)('rs  sliook  till  they  ratth'd.  The  ,lu(l«»e  sat  directly 
ahead  of  me.  In  one  liand  he  iu'ld  his  eyeglasses,  and 
with  the  other  he  wi[M'd  his  eyes  with  his  jjandkeichief. 
At  hist  he  tnined  halfway  ronnd  in  his  chair,  and 
hendinii'  toward  nie,  while  his  face  was  convnlsed  and 
the  water  stood  in  his  eyes,  said,  — 

"  Dynamite  !      Gad. !    dynamite    is  n't  so  had,  after 
all  1 " 


a     :i: 


f'  ': 


i  ,1 


'"%, 


(I    tliiit    tho 

sat  tlirt'ctly 

<»lass('s,  and 

lIKllvClt'llicf. 

cliaii',  and 
iivulsi'd  and 

l)ad,  after 


i 


-■■\ 


:l 


CHAITKII    IV. 

THK    ni(J    iNEPKJON    TROUT. 

W'c  niMv  say  of  iin^lin^'  as  Dr.  Ijotc^lci'  said  i>(  strawhorrips :  "  DoiihflcsH 
(i(i(l  rituhl  liavc  made  a  lu'tter  Imutv.  but  doubtless  (lod  iifviT  did."  And  ho, 
it'  I  iiii^lit  jiidf-o,  God  never  did  make  a  more  calm,  quiet,  imioccut  re(  nsitioii 
ib.m  aii>-lin{?.  Ihaak  Walton. 


V 

N 


•3; 

t 

I 


'TVTLTZATION  means  Inxnrv,"  said  tlie 
Judoe  sententiously,  as  ho  looked  C(mi- 
plaeently  over  the  dinner-tal)le,  witli 
its  snowy  hnen,  its  delicate  china,  its 
hurnished  plate,  its  cnt-j»lass  ware, 
and  its  vase  of  woodland  flowers.  "  It 
is  that  fine  arraiij^^enient  by  which  matter  is  made  to 
minister  to  mind,  the  lower  eomi)elled  to  assist  the 
higher.  The  provision  made  for  travel  is  the  best 
measure  of  American  progress." 

"  Analyze  tiie  matter,  Judge,"  I   said,  as  I  passed 


,f 


54 


DAYIJdHT    LAND. 


iiiiii    the    UK  /IK.      "  AiiJiIyz*'   tlu'    iiiiittcr,   uiid    tell    us 
what  ('is  ili/ntioii  lias  to  do  with  you  and  niu  at  this  nio- 

lUCMlt." 

"  Hoiiilloii,"  said  the  .Iud<;(>  to  the  waiter. 
"  MoeU-turtle,"  J  added. 


"  Mock-turtle  is  too  heavy  for  summer,"  said  the 
Jud<>e  peremptorily  to  me.  "  Like  the  majority  of 
Americans,  you  have  lived  in  spite  of  yourself.  You 
have  the  senses  of  a  Greek  and  the  appetite  of  a  bar- 
barian. The  man  who  eats  mock-turtle  soup  in  sum 
mer  is  a  proof  that  the  principle  of  divine  preservation 
is  still  active." 


^1 


tin:  mk;  xiirKiox  tkoit 


.j;> 


and    tell    us 

IIU  lit  tilis  IIKI- 


LT. 


said  the 
iiajority  of* 
self.  You 
i  of  a  l)ar- 
^ip  in  sum 
reservation 


i 


" 'I'lu'ie 's  iiotliin^'  to  lioiiillon,"  I  rctortt'd.  "It's 
only  water  with  a  hint  of  a  tlavor  in  it,  and  tlie  liint 
isn't  always  very  plain,  either." 

"Tliiit's  the  beauty  of  it,"  returned  the  .Ind^c. 
"  Tliat  's  tlie  beauty  of  it,"  lie  exclaimed,  as  he  iixed  a 
daintv  hon/oiuilrrr  of  ehoieo  flowers  stolen  from  tlie 
vase  to  the  lapel  of  his  coat.  "  The  eivili/ed  man  ab- 
hors «»rossness.  'IMie  barbarian  feeds  at  a  trouj»h.  Edu- 
cate him,  and  he  erects  a  table.  Knife  and  fork  replace 
his  Hn^'ers,  and  as  you  retine  him  the  nund)er  of  his 
dishes  increases,  adornnu'iits  multiply,  until  at  last  he 
is  lifted  to  that  level  upon  which  you  and  I  live,  where 
the  nose  and  the  eye  eat  with  the  mouth,  and  the  fur- 
niture of  the  table,  in  the  ele<»'ance  of  its  ap[>ointments, 
mauiiili  s  tlm  feast." 

Jiy  this  t'uie,  the  soup  had  been  brought,  and  for 
a  moment  the  conversation  ceased.  We  were  running' 
between  sonu;  lofty  hills.  Here  and  there  Ave  passed  a 
small  clearino',  with  its  little  loj»-house  in  the  centre. 
Each  narrow  field  was  a  nuiss  of  woodland  flowers, 
scarlet,  purj)h',  and  white,  standing;-  as  if  jdanted  in  sej)- 
arate  beds,  characterizing-  the  field  with  color.  The 
cabins  here  and  there  were  covered  with  ehnnberin**' 
vines,  and  on  their  sodden  roofs  the  birds  and  winds, 
those  planters  of  the  air,  had  sow^n  the  seeds  for  How- 
erino-,  fruitful  <»rowth.  Outside,  the  world  was  warm 
and  odorous.  The  wild-Howers  sweetened  it,  and  the 
wind  which  blew  the  scented  air  thi'ou«;h  our  open  win- 
dows and  into  our  nostrils  bron<'lit  from  the  loftv  hills 
wild,  oamy  scents,  and  pungencies  of  fir  and  pine. 

The  Judj^e  sipped  his  bouillon  delicately,  as  if  every 


% 


'jl 


!l 


'       .1 


I        V 


r>G 


DAYLIGHT  LAND. 


drop  were  a  separate  mini^.cratioii  to  his  palate.  His 
eyes  contemplated  with  pleased  satisfaction,  not  only 
the  glorious  color  of  the  flowers,  the  green  of  the  hills, 
and  the  blue  sky,  hut  also  the  amber-tinted  liipiid  in 
his  spoon ;  while  his  nostrils  expanded  as  if  they 
would  inhale  more  abundantly  the  perfume  that  drifted 
through  the  window.  It  was  impossible  not  to  see 
in  him  the  incarnation  of  relined  physical  enjoyment, 
a  man  who  honored  his  appetite  by  gratifying  it,  but 
who  <rratilied  it  in  a  manner  so  delicate  that  he  not 
only  redeemed  it  from  the  least  appearance  of  gross- 
ness,  but  made  its  gratification  the  means  for  the  dis- 
play of  his  virtues. 

"  I  have  travelled,"  remarked  the  Judge  reflectively, 
"  in  most  of  the  countries  of  the  world.  I  have  suf- 
fered in  the  tropics  from  heat,  and  in  the  Arctic  re- 
"fions  from  cold.  For  the  sake  of  seeinjr  a  few  old 
ruins,  mostly  buried  in  sand,  I  have  borne  the  agony 
of  prolonged  thirst  on  the  Desert,  and  that  I  might  go 
a  little  farther  than  some  one  else  up  some  river  or 
over  some  mountain,  I  have  inflicted  upon  my  body  the 
pangs  which  precede  starvation.  But  I  have  come  to 
that  period  of  life  in  which  man  ceases  to  be  an  impul- 
sive, and  becomes  a  reasoning,  animal.  And  while  the 
spirit  of  the  tourist  is  in  me  as  strongly  as  ever,  I  nev- 
ertheless insist  that,  in  return  for  my  money,  civilization 
shall  give  me,  as  I  journey,  three  things :  safety,  com- 
fort, luxury.  If  it  will  give  me  these,  —  and  I  assure 
you  thousands  feel  as  I  do  upon  the  subject,  —  I  will 
give  my  money,  and  go  and  see  what  it  has  that  is  new 
to  show  me.     If  not,  I  will  stay  at  home." 


iliite.  His 
,  not  only 
f  the  liills, 

I  li(|uid  in 
s  if  tliey 
lat  diif'ted 
lot  to  see 
iijoymeiit, 
iig-  it,  hut 
iit  lie  not 

of  <;ioss- 
)!•  the  (Us- 

Hectively, 
have  suf- 
^letic  re- 
few  old 
le  ag'ony 
night  oo 
river  or 
body  the 
come  to 

II  impul- 
hile  the 
',  I  nev- 
ilization 
y,  coni- 

iissure 
I-  I  will 
is  new 


FRASER    CANON,    ABOVE    SPUZZUM 


5 

Ml 
i  ■' 


I 


v! 


jV\ 


Ii|!j 


I  Jl  t 


I 


tii  ^ 


THE   BIG   NEPIGON   TROUT. 


59 


3 


I  must  confess  that  1  was  impressed  with  the  conehi- 
sioii  that  the  Judge  had  readied,  the  more  so,  perhaps, 
because  it  was  the  first  time  I  had  ever  heard  it  so 
clearly  formulated  ;  and  I  presume  my  face  manifested 
the  interest  which  I  felt  in  his  line  of  remark,  for  after 
he  had  tasted  of  each  of  the  vegetables  before  him,  as 
a  lady  might  examine  several  samples  of  lace,  and 
deftly  prepared  the  fish  for  its  dressing,  he  resumed  :  — 

"  I  am  an  illustration  of  my  theory,  sir.  I  have 
crossed  the  continent  twenty  times,  1  presume.  I  have 
traveled  on  every  other  line  repeatedly,  but  I  had  never 
seen  the  prairie  lands  west  of  Winnipeg,  which  an  old 
friend  who  came  over  this  route  last  summer  wrote  me 
'  were  as  beautiful  as  the  valley  of  the  Platte,  and  as 
lovely  as  the  Laramie  plains  —  the  most  beautiful 
stretch  of  prairie  land  in  the  world,'  he  said.  And 
from  the  Black  Canon  of  the  Fraser  River  he  wrote  me 
eight  pages  describing  it.  ]Ie  is  nearly  seventy  years 
old,  bear  in  mind  ;  —  eight  pi:ges  of  description  —  an 
old  forty-niner  at  that  —  that  was  simply  wild,  sir, 
wild  and  extravagant  as  the  description  of  a  boy ;  and 
it  is  because  of  those  letters  from  my  old  friend  con- 
cerning these  Canadian  prairies  we  shall  see  to-morrow, 
and  the  four  hundred  miles  of  mountain  scenery  lying 
west  of  the  prairies,  tliat  I  undertook  the  journey. 
But,  sir,"  he  added,  with  emphasis,  "  I  would  never 
have  undertaken  it  unless  T  had  ascertained  that  I  could 
travel  with  safety  and  with  comfort,  and  be  provided, 
as  1  journeyed,  with  certain  luxuries." 

"  Nevertheless,  Judge,"  I  remarked,  "  the  loveliness 
and  majesties  of  nature  are  a  compensation  for  occa- 
sional deprivations,  are  they  not  ?  " 


U 


1'  -ta 


*' 


^    ■  'I 
J, 


ill 


'if 


¥    J 


I    1 


^'  :!'  I\' 


ml. 


60 


DAYLIGHT  LAND. 


"  Within  certain  limitations,  I  should  a^ree  with 
you,"  he  replied.  "  But  for  myself,  the  amber  of  my 
bouillon  assists  me  t(j  appreciate  more  perfectly  the 
flowers  blooming  in  that  little  clearing.  The  taste  of 
this  sahnon  in  my  mouth  makes  that  stretch  of  water 
yonder  seem  more  charming ;  and  I  am  confident  that 
the  ice-cream,  the  nuts,  and  the  coffee  which  I  see  are 
provided  for  our  dessert  will  give  to  the  sky  a  bluer 
tint,  and  add  softness  to  the  fleece  of  yonder  clouds." 

Thus  the  conversation  flowed  on,  while  the  train 
glided  along  past  the  beaches  of  the  bays  that  set 
deeply  into  the  mountains  which  characterize,  with  their 
massive  formations,  the  northern  shore  of  Lake  Sui)e- 
rior.  The  Judge  was  in  his  best  mood,  and  talked  as 
only  one  who  has  seen  much  of  the  world,  its  peoples, 
and  its  ways  can  talk.  Each  course  was  duly  honored, 
as  if  it  were  the  only  one  to  be  enjoyed,  and  the  "  table 
hour,"  as  the  Judge,  with  a  pleasant  conceit,  named  it, 
was  the  one  so  utilized  that  while  it  xuinistered  most 
fully  to  the  wants  of  the  body,  it  contributed  beyond 
any  other  to  the  pleasures  of  the  mind. 

"  Hello  !  "  I  exclaimed,  as  I  glanced  at  the  time-table, 
which,  in  the  form  of  an  illustrated  itinerary,  lay  on 
the  table.     "  We  must  be  nearing  the  Nepigon." 

"  The  Nepigon  !  "  exclaimed  the  Judge,  with  the  ar- 
dor of  a  sportsman.  "  More  monstrous  trout  have  been 
caught  in  the  Nepigon  than  in  any  other  river  on  the 
continent.  I  have  friends  who  firmly  believe  that  it 
is  one  of  the  four  sacred  rivers  that  flowed  out  of 
Paradise." 

"  I  think  I  would  agree  with  them,"  I  laughingly 


THE   BIG   NEPKJON   TROUT. 


61 


m 


i^ree  with 
iber  of  my 
t'f'ectly  the 
ie  taste  of 
h  of  water 
ident  that 
^  I  see  are 
fy  a  bhier 
clouds." 
tlie   train 
'  that  set 
with  their 
ike  Supe- 

talked  as 
»  13eoples, 

honored, 
lie  "  table 
lamed  it, 
red  most 
I  beyond 

nie-table, 
r,  lay  on 
I." 

1  the  ar- 
ive  been 
I'  on  the 
that  it 
out  of 

ghingly 


r^'turned,  ''  if  they  would  make  their  Paradise  include 
not  only  the  river,  but  the  lake  in  which  it  heads. 
For  if  Lake  Nepigon  was  not  in  Paradise,  it  was  a 
great  loss  for  Paradise."  And  as  I  spoke,  the  train 
struck  the  bridge  which  stretches  across  the  noble  and 
noted  river,  and  as  it  was  gliding  smoothly  on  it  slowed, 
and  suddenly  stopped. 

"  Oh  !  oh  !  oh  !  " 

"  See,  Tom  !  Look  !  " 

"  Jones,  where  are  you  ?  " 

"  Fo'  de  Lawd,  Mars'  Judge  !  "  exclaimed  the  waiter. 
"  You  two  gem'men  git  to  de  hind  end  ob  de  kyar,  ef 
you  wants  ter  see  what  's  gwine  on  doyvn  dar  in  dat 
ribber !  " 

The  excitement  was  contagious,  for  thf;  car  was  full 
of  shouts,  cheers,  and  exclamations.  The  Judge 
rushed  down  the  aisle  to  the  rear  of  the  car  — 

"  Great  heavens  !  "  he  exclaimed,  as  he  reached  the 
platform.     "  Look  at  that !  " 

A  hundred  feet  below  us  flowed  the  nol)le  current, 
a  dee}),  wide,  strong-moving  mass  of  water.  Here  and 
there  an  eddy  marked  it  with  its  huge  circumference. 
But  in  the  main  it  moved  downward  toward  the  great 
lake,  shining  in  full  view,  as  a  river  flows  between  wid- 
ened banivs  and  with  plenty  of  room.  In  the  middle 
of  the  river  nearly  under  us  was  a  canoe  with  an  Indian 
at  either  end,  and  a  man  in  a  velveteen  jacket  standing 
in  the  centre.  Li  his  hands  was  a  rod,  and  the  tip 
of  the  rod  was  doubled  backward  nigh  to  the  reel,  the 
ringing  whir  of  which  filled  the  air.  His  pose  was  that 
of  an  angler  who  had  struck  a  fish  —  a  big  fish,  a  fish 


14 


i'  '■ 


1 


Hi 


I     * 

I;.   *     '  1- 


'!    !'•'• 


'■^S- 


•    J 


<'t      i 


r  12 


|!/;'t 


'A 


, 


v.^ 


%  '•l-l 


i^  i 


I 


02 


DAYLKillT   LAND. 


tliat  is  fif»litinfr  liim  oaincly  and  stubbornly,  and  which 
he  is  resistino-  with  the  cool,  dctennincd  skill  of  a  vet- 
eran  of  the  rod. 

"  What  a  picture!"  ex'.'laiincd  the  .)udi»t'.  "Gad! 
what  a  picture  !  " 

Well  niight  he  exclaim,  "  W^liat  a  picture  ! "  The 
wide  river ;  the  island-studded  lake,  into  which  it 
emptied  ;  the  lofty  banks  ;  the  great  dome  of  blue  sky 
above ;  hii»li  over  the  stream,  as  if  hung-  in  mid-air,  the 
long  train,  every  window  filled  with  heads,  every  plat- 
foini  crowded  with  forms,  the  engineer,  an  angler  hi  a- 
self,  hanging  out  of  the  cab,  swinghig  his  liat ;  ^  jw, 
the  canoe,  the  ochred  Indians,  the  bent  body  of  the 
angler,  the  sAvaying,  quivering,  doubled- up  rod,  —  what 
a  picture ! 

Suddenly,  we  who  were  lookino-  saw  the  rod 
straighten.  Some  of  us  knew  what  it  meant.  The 
Judge  clinched  my  arm,  and  in  an  instant  out  of  the 
Avater  came  the  trout,  mouth  open,  fins  extended,  tail 
spread. 

"  Jerusalem  !  "  screamed  the  Jud<>'e.  "  He  's  a 
twenty-pounder  ! " 

Dear  old  Judge,  thou  hadst  the  true  angler's  eye  — 
that  eye  which  enlarges  and  multii)lies  by  a  hai)py 
trick  of  vision,  not  merely  the  size  of  the  fish,  but  the 
enjoyment  of  the  soul.  Ay,  ay,  it  was  a  twenty- 
pounder  to  both  of  us  old  sports  for  the  instant,  and  if 
the  envious  scales  did  shrink  the  noble  form  to  shorter 
and  thinner  proportions,  it  could  not  rob  us  of  the 
ecstasy  of  our  first  estimate,  thank  heaven  ! 

And  the  fight  that  followed  —  what  words  may  set 


'W 


i' 


i 


1 

i 


,  aiul  which 
ill  ot*  u  vet- 

^'.     -Gad! 

le  !  "  The 
>  which  it 
>f  l)lue  sky 
iiid-uir,  tlie 
every  plat- 
iigler  hi  ,1- 
iit;  I  jw, 
>cly  of  the 
>(l,  —  what 

the  rod 
mt.  The 
Hit  of  the 
Glided,  tail 


'He 


s   a 


r  s  eye  — 
a  happy 
1,  but  the 
I  twenty- 
it,  and  if 
()  shorter 
IS  of  the 

may  set 


,'■■.:  I 


'    i 


,'t 
i 

1 


m 


'JERUSALEM!     H  5.  '  b    A    TWENTY-POUNDER' 


It 


J 


^  .•' 


* ., 


TIIK    IWn    NKPKKIN   TKOl'T. 


<).1 


it  forth?  0  anglers,  shut  your  evt's,  and  sec  ainl  h<'ar 
it  from  holiind  vour  t'h)S{'(l  lids,  (/ull  nuMuorv  to  your 
aid  —  th(3  mouiorv  of  the  stcriu'st  fij;ht  you  ever  fouu'lit, 
of  the  swiftest  torrent,  of  tht;  wihh'st  pool,  of  that  fa- 
vorite rod  smashed  to  spHnters,  of  paddle  broken,  of  the 
"  hi<><>est  fish  that  ever  swam"  h)st  or  won.  Slop,  I 
say,  and  fnmi  behind  closed  lids  see  all  this,  and  you 
will  see  what  we  saw  under  the  <»reat  bridii'c!  over  the 
Ne]»i<;on  on  that  bright  June  day. 

Whoever  the  Man  in  the  Velveteen  Jaeket  mi<»ht  be, 
he  was  of  the  right  sort,  an  angler  of  whom  angiers 
need  never  be  ashamed  ;  for  as  he  fought  that  fish  he 
ofave  us  such  an  exhibition  of  an"ler's  fence  as  rai\ed 
him  one  of  the  best  that  ever  fingered  reel.  An  ei<»ht- 
ounce  rod  against  an  eiglit-i)oun(l  lish,  a  strong,  deep 
current,  and  a  Nepigon  canoe :  grant  anglers  such 
conditions,  and  how  many  shall  make  a  winning  figlit? 

Twice  the  huge  fish  broke  water,  and  twice  the  long 
train  cheered  him  to  the  echo.  The  Judge  was  wild. 
Each  time  the  fish  broke  the  surface,  he  fairly  jumped. 
He  leaned  far  over  the  rail.  He  swung  his  hat,  and 
when  the  monstrous  trout  broke  the  surface  the  second 
time,  he  yelled, — 

"  Save  him,  save  him,  and  I'll  nominate  you  for  the 
Presidency  ! " 

Once  the  great  fish  for  an  instant  burst  through  his 
opponent's  guard.  Once  I  must  confess  my  heart  sank 
within  me,  as  a  stone  sinks  to  the  bottom  of  a  well. 
When  he  was  a  hundred  feet  from  the  canoe,  the  rod 
nearly  tip  and  butt,  and  the  silk  line  stretched  through 
the  air  like  a  wire,  the  fish  doubled  and  lanced  back- 


I 


I      t 


t     . 


11' 


m  1 1 


* 


m 


D.WF K.iri"    I, AND. 


l      ■: 


1 


1^ 


\#i 


Ji      I 


wani  liUc  a  Hash.  Wu  saw  his  wake,  —  tliat  sltarpciicd 
wcdoe  of  Wiitv.i-  which  ai»<»h'rs  (head,  — and  as  lie  went 
iiiKhii  the  canoe,  and  ni  the  stilhiess  tliat  liad  come  to  ns 
we  heard  the  line  latth'  on  tlie  hark,  a  <»roan  escaped 
tlie  .Tud<»'e.  lie  rolled  his  eyes  upward,  and  roared  as 
if  stricken  with  pahi, — 

'•  Great  Scott !   he  's  lost  him  !  " 

But  the  fish  was  not  lost.  The  an«>ler  recovered  his 
advanta<»e,  and  f(  u<»ht  the  hoht  to  the  end,  skilfully 
and  coolly.  The  fish  was  deftly  "ailed  hy  one  of  the 
Indians,  and  (piickly  lay  on  the  hottoin  of  the  canoe. 
The  Indians  seized  their  paddles,  and  the  lioht  craft 
glanced  toward  the  western  hank,  the  man  unjointing' 
his  rod  as  the  hoat  shot  ah)ng',  and  in  a  moment  they 
came  pantiii<»'  u|)  the  emhankment  with  a  hu«»e  ham[)er 
in  their  hands,  in  which,  amid  flowers  and  j»'rasses,  lay 
six  other  trout,  nearly  as  large  as  the  one  we  had  seen 
ca[»tured. 

Seldom  is  such  a  recei>tion  granted  to  a  mortal  as 
was  given  to  the  Man  in  the  Velveteen  Jacket.  The 
engineer  cheered  and  swung  his  hat  ;  the  hreman, 
sooted  and  hegrimed,  capered  and  danced  on  the  coal- 
hox  like  an  electrified  imp  ;  the  passeng'ers  yelled  ;  the 
ladies  fluttered  their  handkerchiefs ;  while  we  anglers 
of  the  party  fairly  took  him  in  our  arms  and  lifted  hhu 
on  to  the  jdatform,  where  the  Judge  enfolded  him  in 
an  emhrace  which  the  stranger  will  never  forget,  —  a 
hug  such  as  an  old  ang'ler  gives  a  younger  one  to 
whom  he  is  indebted  for  an  exhibition  of  skill  which 
has  brouo-it  back  to  his  memory  all  his  own  former 
victories,  and  proved  to  his  anxious  soul  that  the  gentle 
art  is  not  beiu;"'  nei»lected. 


I 
t    f; 


TIIK    HK;    NKPKION   TUOIT.  u7 

N«'v<'i'  fVi!!',  lU'VLT  fear,  dear  old  .ludj^c,  tliat  the  art 
(»F  all  arts  will  hv  lost,  or  the  skill  of  trained  Hii^fr  and 
eve  l)e  t'or<>'ott('n.  We  shall  pass  ;  but  still  the  streanis 
ill   How  on,  the  pools  will  «»'o   round,  md   the  trout 


w 


>f 


love   the   coolness    or    s]»rni<»s  and   the   rus 


I   th 


>h   of 


SWI 


It 


waters.  The  hoys  will  <;row  u[>  like  their  sires,  lovinj;' 
water  and  sun,  lovinj;'  forest  and  rapids.  W'.th  hrown 
faces  and  hands,  and  with  eyes  keen  as  ours,  they  will 
stand  where  we  stood,  they  will  hoat  where  we  hoated, 
they  will  camp  where  we  canned,  and  the  dead  ashes 
f  fires  that  we  kindled  they   will   kindk'  to  new  life 


o 


auaui. 


nature  and  man 


Th 
I 


le   iientle  art  wul  live   on 


11  li 


w 


hil 


e    nature    is 


ikind 


IS  man. 


I 


^1 


IB    •' 


I    ii: 


r 


J'  V 


I 


"1 


I.    !■ 


i 


I  :i 


I  ii 


!] 


CHAPTER    V. 

THE    MAN    IN    THK    VELVETEEN    JAf'KET. 

A  iiiiTritM'  man 

Witliiii  till- limit  nf  hocoiiiiii^  inirtti 
.  1  never  spent  an  lionr's  talk  witlial. 

HE  chiet'est  charm  of  travel  is  ioiuul, 
perhaps,  in  the  novel  and  enteitain- 
in<»*  characters  that  we  meet,  and  the 
pleasant  renvonlnx  which  occur. 
The  sweetest  flowers  will  not  come  to 
us  ;  we  must  go  to  them.  They  Jl^row 
in  the  nooks  and  corners  of  fences,  in  cracks  and  cran- 
nies of  the  rocks,  in  crevices  of  the  cliffs,  in  stranoe 
out-of-the-way  places,  where  only  the  eye  and  the  nose 
of  the  trailer  may  find  them.  In  respect  to  human 
companionship  it  is  the  same ;  the  quaint,  the  intelli- 
<»ent,  the  charming",  the  original  and  piquant  person- 
alities of  the  race  are  not  horn  in  groups ;  they  are  not 


TIIK   MAN    IN    rilK  VKLVKTKKN   .lACKKT. 


()1) 


found  in  clustors,  nor  can  W(>  call  tli(>in  to  onr  lionu's. 
To  lind  them  we  must  travel;  \\v  must  look  tlicm  up; 
\vc  must  j;<)  wlicn*  they  are ;  we  must  put  ourselves 
upon  currents  which  <'ross  theii'  currents,  and  ho,  like 
hirds  tlyin*;'  at  raniU)m,  he  hlown  to^ctlu'r. 

The  Hnest  delight  of  travel  is  that  of  the  casual 
companionshij)s  it  hrin<;s  us,  the  sndles  and  the  hrij»ht 
faces  that  we  see,  the  kindly  hands  that  we  clasp,  or 
the  warm  hearts  that  we  uu'et  in  our  need.  These 
make  the  charm  of  jouriu'yiu*;',  and  cause  the  recollec- 
tions of  vovaiiin<»"  to  he  so  (leli«»htfid. 

And  this  man — this  Man  in  the  Velveteen  Jacket 
—  was  such  a  <»ift  to  our  party.  It  is  true,  lu;  had 
C(mie  to  us  reccmuuended  as  no  other  man  miuht  he. 
His  introduction  accredited  him  to  our  fellowship  as 
the  word  of  a  kin<^  mi<;ht  not  do,  and  from  the  mo- 
ment he  entered  our  circle  it  was  as  one  who  helonoed 
there,  as  one  who  filled  a  ])lace  that  had  waited  for 
him  and  remained  unfilled  until  he  canu' ;  and  into  it 
he  dro])])ed  without  undue  familiarity,  on  the  one  hand, 
and  without  the  least  awkwardness  or  end)arrassment, 
on  the  other. 

His  manners  were  simply  chai'min<>',  hecause  of  a 
hap})y  min<»lin<»'  of  modesty  and  self-possession.  He 
was  a  natural  hmnorist.  His  humor  was  so  (piaint  that 
it  an\use(l,  and  so  jvi'avely  expressed  that  it  puzzled. 
As  you  looked  at  his  face  and  listened  to  the  tones  of 
his  voice,  you  were  divided  in  feelino'  as  to  whether 
you  were  listenin<»'  to  fiction  or  to  fact ;  and  even  amid 
vour  lauo'hter  at  the  ludicrousness  of  the  creation,  vou 
found  yourself  (pieryino-   whether  the    source   of    the 


•  U 


;M 


r  '■ 


f  *■ 


70 


DAYLKillT   LAND. 


fun  at  which  you  were  laughing  was  not  found  in  some 
serious  oceurrence. 

"  You  (lid  it  well,"  said  the  Judge,  lefening'  to  his 
contest  with  the  trout.  "  You  never  made  a  miss  with 
eye  or  finger.  You  handled  the  rod  as  only  a  man 
can  who  has  handW  it  from  boyhood." 

The  Man  in  the  Velveteen  Jacket  looked  at  the 
.ludiie  for  a  moment,  with  the  most  mirthful  of  liuhts 
in  liis  eyes,  as  one  who  found  in  his  positive  assertion 
a  suggestion  of  fun,  which  all  of  us  appreciated  at  the 
Judge's  ex})ense  when  he  remarked, — 

"•  I  am  hapi)y  to  think  that  my  manner  of  fighting 
the  iish  met  the  api)rol)ation  of  an  old  angler  like 
yourself,  but  as  measured  by  time  I  would  scarcely  be 
regarded  as  an  expert,  for  I  never  touched  a  rod  till  1 
was  twenty-five." 

"  Incredible  !  "  exclaimed  the  Judge.  "  Why,  sir,  I 
have  always  maintained  that  no  man  could  become  an 
expert  witli  the  rod  \:  less  he  began  practice  with  it  as 
a  bov, — grew  uj)  with  it,  as  it  were." 

"  Nevertheless,"  continued  the  stranger  pleasantly, 
"  the  fact  is  as  I  have  stated  it.  Until  I  was  twenty- 
five  I  used  the  gun.  Shooting  was  a  passion  with  me. 
It  was  my  favorite  pastime,  and  I  presume  I  should 
never  have  used  the  rod  at  all  —  which  I  have  done 
exclusively  since  a  certain  event  —  unless  I  had  met 
with  a  great  misfortune,  caused  by  a  dog,  —  a  misfor- 
tune which  made  me  lose  all  taste  for  shooting  and 
the  sight  of  a  bird  dog  absolutely  disagreeable  to  me. 
Yes,  gentlemen,"  continued  the  Man  in  the  Velveteen 
Jacket,  earnestly,  "  my  last  experience  with  a  dog  was 


I     ■' 


'I'll* 


MT.  CARROLL,   FROM    THE   WEST. 


! 

^^m 

1                 ^ 

'  '                                                                                                                                                                                                                 ^^^^B 

■ 

^B 

i 

^H 

■ 

1 

^M            111 

1 

■ 

H 

H 

, 

1 

; 

1 

H        lit 

^1             m 

i 

1 

H 

■ 
1 

H 

i 

*'^'^^                                                                                                   1 

■ 

1 

1 

1 

1 

I 

■■ 

1 

^^^1 

i 

THK  MAN    IN   THE  VELVETEEN   JACKET. 


73 


a  most  unfortunate  one,  and  alth(>ii<>'li  years  luive 
elapsed  since  I  met  it,  I  cannot  recall  it,  even  at  this 
distance  of  time,  without  an  involuntary  shudder. 
Strange  that  a  man's  life  can  he  seriously  affected  hy 
what  seems  at  the  start  a  trivial  event !  But  I  as- 
sure you  that  my  profession,  the  location  of  my  resi- 
dence, and  my  domestic  connection,  are  all  to-day 
dilierent  from  what  they  would  have  been  had  I  never 
met  that  dog\" 

It  is  needless  to  say  tiiat  the  astonishing  statement 
of  our  companion  excited  our  curiosity  to  a  degree, 
and  our  looks  doubtless  plainly  apprised  him  of  the 
fact ;  for  after  a  moment's  pause,  he  took  his  pipe 
from  his  mouth,  and  having  emptied  the  ashes  into 
the  cuspidor  as  carefully  as  if  he  were  smoking  in 
a  friend's  parlor,  with  his  friend's  wife  sitting  in  the 
next  room,  in  exact  range  of  the  door  which  com- 
manded his  position,  he  continued,  — 

"  Perhaps  it  is  only  fair  that  I  should  satisfy  your 
curiosity,  Avliich  I  see  I  have  awakened  by  what  may 
seem  to  you  an  extraordinary  statement ;  and  if  it  will 
entertain  you  to  hear  a  story  which  has  little  to  rec- 
ommend it  save  its  novelty  and  its  sadness,  I  will,  at 
the  cost  of  painful  reminiscence,  tell  it  to  you." 

Upon  this  the  Judge,  who,  because  of  the  dignity 
of  his  official  position  as  well  as  of  his  years,  and,  I 
may  add,  the  urbanity  of  his  manners,  was  by  mutual 
assent  of  us  all  regarded  as  the  natural  spokesman  of 
the  party,  replied,  — 

"  I  must  confess  that  I  am  curious  to  hear  the  his- 
tory of  the  dog,  or  of  your  ex])eriences  with  the  dog ; 


;  i''-. 


:i)i 


I! 


mu 


m 


mil 

m\ 


I 


.:lf 


74 


DAYLIGHT  LAND. 


i 


ir 


I  I 


and  I  doubt  not  that  all  the  jrentlemen  here  share  this 
senthnent  with  nie ;  and  if  your  feelings  will  allow 
you  to  satisfy  our  curiosity,  I  be<j;'  you  to  do  so.  For 
it  does  seem  extraordinary  that  a  dog  should  be  able 
to  influenee  a  man's  life  to  such  an  extent  as  to  change 
the  direction  of  his  activities,  and  even  affect  his  do- 
mestic environment." 

"  You  must  know,  then,  gentlemen,"  resumed  the 
man,  *^  that  I  studied  for  the  practice  of  medicine,  and 
was  engaged  to  the  daughter  of  a  noted  physician,  who 
lived  in  the  northern  section  of  Vermont  and  enjoyed 
a  large  and  lucrative  country  practice.  He  was  a  man 
of  large  attainments  and  of  a  high  spirit.  His  only 
daughter  was  a  young  lady  of  unusual  beauty,  and  had 
been  endowed  at  birth  with  a  liberal  share  of  her 
father's  abilities  and  his  excitable  temperament.  She 
was  a  loA^ely  girl,  and,  being  sole  heiress  prospectively 
to  the  old  doctor's  property,  was  much  courted  by  her 
gentlemen  acquaintances.  When,  therefore,  our  en- 
gagement became  known  I  was,  with  good  reason, 
heartily  congratulated  by  the  generous,  and  cordially 
hated  by  the  envious.  I  had  just  been  graduated  at 
the  medical  school,  and  at  the  close  of  my  summer 
vacation  it  was  arranged  that  the  lady  and  myself 
should  be  married.  This  would  enable  me  to  be<>'in 
my  practice  under  her  father,  the  old  doctor,  whose 
business  would  thus  naturally,  in  the  course  of  time, 
fall  into  my  hands.  I  submit,  gentlemen,  if  any  young- 
man  ever  stood  face  to  face  with  a  more  auspicious 
future.  I  was  soon  to  be  united  to  a  beautiful  girl, 
with  an    ample  fortune,  and  be  thereby  admitted  to 


i  11 


»-, 


*^L_: 


■i^i 


THE  MAN  IN  THE  VELVETEEN  JACKET. 


75 


a  professional  connection  which  was  both  j^Tatityinj^  to 
my  vanity  and  satisfactory  to  my  ambition.  And  even 
now,  after  years  have  passed,  1  cannot  recall  without 
emotion  that  I  lost  wife  and  fortune,  and  that  a  most 
l)eautiful  arrangement  of  Providence  was  disturbed, 
broken  up,  smashed,  so  to  speak,  by  a  miserable  doo." 

By  this  time,  as  can  well  be  imagined,  we  were  all 
of  us  intensely  interested  in  the  gentleman's  narrative. 
We  felt  that  his  had  been  no  connuon  experience,  but 
that  in  the  life  of  the  Man  in  the  \'elveteen  Jacket  there 
was  embodied  n  series  of  startling  mishaps,  and  tliat, 
however  he  might  strive  to  disguise  it  by  forced  calm- 
ness of  voice  or  restraint  of  feature,  we  were  neverthe- 
less about  to  listen  to  the  recital  of  a  lifelong  bereave- 
ment  —  perhaps  of  a  tragedy.  We  therefore  drew  our 
circle  tlie  more  closely  around  him,  that  we  might  not 
lose  a  single  word  that  came  from  his  lips.  And  1  could 
see  that  the  Judge,  who  was  endowed  with  acute  sensi- 
bilities, had  prophetically  sensed  what  was  coming,  for 
his  eyes  glistened  appreciatively  behind  his  glasses,  and 
his  large  checked  silk  handkerchief  was  spread  care- 
fully over  his  plump  knees,  ready  to  his  hand. 

"  It  all  happened  in  this  way,"  he  continued,  after 
a  moment's  silence,  devoted  doubtless  by  him  to  sad 
recollections.  "  It  all  happened  in  this  way.  A  few 
days  after  Connnencement,  when  I  had  everything 
packed,  and  was  ready  to  go  to  the  doctor's  to  make 
the  preliminary  arrangements  for  the  wedding,  a  club 
of  fellow-sportsmen  invited  me  to  dinner.  I  had,  of 
course,  a  most  enjoyable  evening.  I  believe  there  was 
not  a  man  at  the  table  over  whose  dog  I  had  not  shot ; 


Hf:  ? 


^^'i 


m 


i  •♦ 


■if' 


76 


DAYLKJHT   LAND. 


and  between  the  speeelies,  the  songs,  the  anecdotes, 
and  the  reminiscences  of  flood  and  field,  our  niiitht'ul- 
ness  was  unbounded.  All  knew  of  the  good  fortune 
ahead  of  nie,  and  each  and  every  one,  I  verily  believe, 
heartily  rejoiced  at  it.  Amid  all  the  cha ages  of  life," 
said  the  Man  in  the  Velveteen  Jacket  reflectively, 
"  amid  all  the  changes  of  life,  and  the  passage  of  years 
wliich  have  obliterated  much,  I  have  never  forgotten 
that  happy  evening,  or  the  features  of  a  single  face 
around  those  tables." 

"  Amen  !  "  exclaimed  the  Judge,  who  was  hhnself  a 
noted  sportsman.  "  Amen  to  the  noble  sentiment. 
There  is  no  conu'adeship  like  that  of  the  woods  and 
waters,  no  friendship  like  that  of  out-door  mei>."  And 
the  old  sportsman's  eulogy  was  greeted  by  the  applause 
of  us  all. 

"  The  next  morning  T  was  at  my  l)ank,  getting 
a  check  cashed,  en  route  for  the  depot,  and  being 
pressed  for  time,  was  getting  hurriedly  into  a  coupe 
at  the  door,  when  two  friends  —  a  conunittee  appointed 
by  the  club  —  rushed  up  to  the  carriage,  having  a 
large  pointer  dog  and  a  speech  to  deliver  to  me.  I 
hastily  explained  my  position  to  them :  that  I  had  n't 
a  minute  to  spare,  and  that  I  must  reach  the  train ; 
that  the  coupe  was  full  of  parcels  and  baskets  ;  that  I 
was  truly  grateful,  but  I  did  not  see  how  I  could  make 
room  — 

"  I  am  not  sure  that  my  friends  heard  me  clearly, 
for  there  was  a  great  noise  in  the  street,  and  the 
driver,  who  knew  that  there  Avas  n't  an  instant  to  lose, 
had  started  his  horse.     Be  that  as  it  may,  the  dog  was 


■1' 


THE   MAN   IN   THE    VELVETEEN   JA(JKEr. 


77 


delivered  to  me.  For,  unfortuimtely,  the  window  of 
the  coupe  was  open,  and  my  two  friends,  seizinj^-  the 
doo-  in  their  hands,  pushed  him  with  great  merriment 
through  the  aperture,  tlirowing  u  huge  j>arehment 
pedigree  into  my  hip  at  the  same  time. 

"  As  might  be  expected,  the  tU)g  was  considerably 
distributed  when  he  landed  in  the  carriage.  One 
muddy  forefoot  went  in  between  my  shirt-front  and 
white  vest,  and  the  other  lanced  along  the  back  side 
of  my  neck.  His  right  hind  foot  was  buried  in  a 
basket  of  grapes,  and  his  left  had  ploughed  through  a 
huge  and  costly  bou(|uet  of  flowers,  bursting  the  band 
which  held  them  together.  Still,  1  reflected  that  the 
dog  wasn't  to  blame  for  being  so  unceremoniously 
thrust  through  a  window,  and  the  motive  on  the  ])art 
of  my  friends  which  prom])ted  the  gift  was  touching. 
So  I  collected  the  different  parts  of  the  dog  as  much 
as  I  could,  brought  him  to  one  centre,  as  it  were, 
and  pressing  him  down  between  my  legs,  tied  him 
by  a  neck-rope  to  a  big  telescoj)e  valise  on  the  seat 
beside  me. 

"  I  had  just  got  the  dog  safely  fixed  in  this  manner, 
and  was  collecting  the  scattered  flowers,  when  tho 
coupe  thundered  up  to  the  depot.  The  .leliu  jum])e(l 
from  his  box  and  threw  open  the  door,  crying,  '  Hurry 
up,  zur,  uot  a  minit  to  spare.' 

"  I  gTab])<^d  the  basket  of  grapes  in  one  hand,  my 
hat-box  in  the  other,  and  jumped  to  the  pavement. 
But  the  dog  was  as  anxious  to  get  out  as  1  was.  For 
as  I  was  making  my  exit  he  bolted  between  my  legs, 
my  big  valise  was  yanked  from  the  seat,  and  striking 


IT 


Wi\ 


'  •  <• 


■t 

I    : 
♦  1  - . 


7S 


DAYLKIHT   LAM). 


.,.  I 


i  ^i 


.!  * 


iiK'  l)etwi't'ii  tlio  sliouldcrs,  knocked  mo  on  ^op  of  tlie 
(loj»'.  Tliinkin«»-  I  luid  done  it  on  [)ui'|)ose,  he  whipped 
his  tail  between  liis  le<»s  and  rusht'd  into  the  depot, 
yelhn«»'  at  every  jump,  with  the  vaUse  tiiumpin<»-  alon^' 
after  him,  while  1  phni«»ed  for  it  in  order  to  reeai)tiire 
the  iUyj:. 


"  Now  there  liapjiened  to  he  a  hi«;',  eor[)ulent  liaek- 
nuin  '  arrvin^-  a  liu«»e  trnnk  on  iiis  shoulders  across  the 
|)l»!iu!n>,  ind  my  do*;',  like  an  infernal  idiot,  fetched  a 
tnvli  lean  round  his  legs,  ami  then  started  to  jump 
tl;  '  trarl  The  man's  feet  were  jerked  from  under 
him,  the  \r.<r  trunk  dropped  heavily  to  the  jdatform 
and  hurst  open,  and  my  valise  Hew  around  and  hit  him 
in  the  stomach  as  he  sat  down  ;  while  the  dog",  who 
had  hegun  to  feel  that  he  was  heing  unjustly  treated, 
doubled  back  and  charged  at  the  big  hackman  with 
bared  teeth  and  tail  stiff  as  a  ramrod.  1  never  saw 
a  mad(hn'  man  or  a  worse  nniss  in  my  life.  The 
hackman  addressed  me  in  language  which  was  simply 
frightful,  and  1  was  inexpressibly  grateful  when,  with 
the  help  of  a  brakeman,  1  succeeded  in  getting  that 
dreadful  doii*  into  the  l)a<»'<iajre-car  and  saw  him  lashed 
safely  to  a  stanchion.  The  flowers  were  lost,  the 
basket  of  grapes  was  left  behind,  my  clothes  were 
tracked  all  over  as  if  I  had  served  as  a  mat  to  a  dog- 
kennel,  and  my  poor  valise  looked  as  tired  as  a  com- 
positor at  four  (j'clock  in  the  morning. 

"  I  got  an  express  tag  and  wrote  my  name  on  it,  and 
where  I  was  going,  gave  the  dog  some  water  and  the 
baggage-master  two  dollars  to  put  him  off  carefully  at 
the  station  where  I  was  to  stop,  and  then  I  went  back 


h 


li  ^ 


r  J  ^ 


'jtiiit 


■i 


r' 


THE    HACKMAN. 


.k!'U 


i 


L. 


^ 


THK   MAX    IN    TIIK   VKLVKTKKN   ,IA(  Kl.T 


SI 


to  tiic   |Kii'l(U-  cui'  and   spnit  jiii   hour  witli   the   porter 
ill  octtin*;'  tlic  doi;'  tracks  oil'  my  wardrolu'. 

"Well,  aloiij;'  in  tlic  attcriiooii,  wlicn  we  liad  ^'ot 
^V(>11  ii[>  into  V'ciinont,  tii(>  train  stctppcd  at  a  small 
station  for  wood  and  water,  and  1  strolled  forward  to 
see  if  iny  doj,'"  was  all  rij»lit  and  mak<'  his  aLM|naintanee 
a  little.  To  my  horror,  1  diseovered  that  a  new  haj»- 
ga«»'e-inan  had  conu?  ahoard,  an<l  reading"  the  directi(His 
wron«»ly,  had  put  my  do«»'  oiV  at  a  villaj;e  nearly  fifty 
miles  hack  in  New  llam[>shire.  There  was  only  one 
thino'  to  do,  and  that  was  to  ^o  hack  after  him.  For- 
tunately t\w  down  tvain  was  due  in  a  few  moments, 
and  when  it  came  in  1  hoarded  it.  I  reached  the 
town  ahout  seven  in  the  eveiiinj;',  aiul  not  a  hit  too 
soon,  for  my  <h)i»-  had  already  made  a  record  for  him- 
self, and  was  actino*  in  a  manner  to  secure  an  ohituary 
notice  of  at  least  a  column  in  len<»cli  in  the  next  issue 
of  the  vina<»e  i>aper.  The  station-master  had  received 
him  from  the  l)a<;«»a«»'e-maii,  and  not  knowino-  to  whom 
he  should  deliver  Inm,  jiad  very  properly  tied  him  to  a 
trunk  in  the  ba<»«»a<»t'-room,  locked  him  in,  and  <;-one 
hcmie.  In  two  or  three  hours  he  became  tired  of  wait- 
and  <»nawino;  his  rope  in  two  went  out  through  the 


mil 


p>' 


window,  takiii<>'  half  the  sash  with  him.  No  sooner 
hi  d  he  touched  the  oround  than  the  station-master's 
do<>'  pitched  upon  him,  and  after  a  short  experience  he 
started  up  the  ])riiicipal  street  of  the  villaj»e,  Jis  near 
the  centre  as  a  do"-  in  a  hurrv  could  estimate  with  my 
dog-  in  exact  line  and  only  one  jump  behind  him.  The 
two  had  jvoiie  into  the  stati()n-a<;ent's  house,  as  near  the 
same  instant  as  they  could  have  done  if  they  had  prac- 


1»' 


-ifl 


I  . 

/ 

'•*n?iiri 

• 
• 

fi 

r^?j! 

' 

™r,i 


*  ■■  ii 


ii* 


82 


DAYJ.KillT   LAND. 


:: 


,.<  1 


a 


■  I 


ti(!('(l  a  luiudnMl  years.  The  man  was  at  siH)])or  Avltli 
liis  family,  in  the  act  oF  sayiiij;'  «»ract',  and  wlicii  tlic  two 
(lo<»s  went  under  i\w.  taMe  they  lifted  it  as  nuieli  as 
tlin-o  feet  straight  uj)  in  tlie  air.  T\h^  a<»'ent's  wife 
went  into  hysterics,  his  ohh'st  dan<»liter  fainted  where 
she  sat,  and  tlie  man,  witliont  waiting-  to  eoMect  his  own 
(loo-,  eliased  mine  into  the  street  witli  a  shot-«»nn  in  his 
hand,  yeUin*;'  'Mad  (h>«;' !  mad  (h>«»' ! '  at  the  top  of 
his  voice.     He  wonhl  nn(h)nhtedly  have  kiUed  my  (h>« 


h' 


had  he  not  stopped  to  take  aim,  and  it  was  owin<»'  to 
this  sH«»ht  mistake,  probably,  that  my  dog'  escaped  with 
his  life. 

"  1  never  knew  how  1  <»()t  out  of  that  town  alive,  for 
I  insulted  every  man  that  s[)oke  to  nu',  and  got  into 
two  iiohts  while  the  light  lasted.  J5ut  I  <li(l,  and  had 
the  dog  with  me,  too,  for  I  was  pretty  hot  over  the 


treatuu'ut 


both  had 


^ed  in  that  vilh 


1 


I'eceiv 
moreover,  l   Hold  that  every  man   ought  to  stand  by 
his  dog." 

"  That 's  right,"  said  the  Judge,  as  he  wiped  his 
eyes.  "  Yes,  every  man  ought  to  stand  by  his  dog,  in 
court  and  out  of  court." 

And  for  several  uiinutes  the  Man  in  the  Velveteen 
Jacket  was  unable  to  proceed  because  of  the  emotions 
his  story  had  elicited  from  those  who  sat  listening  to 
his  vivid  narration. 

"  But  all  this,"  he  resumed  at  length,  —  "all  this,  in 
itself  considered,  was  of  very  little  importance,  nothing' 
more  than  any  man  who  has  had  a  dog  with  a  pedi- 
gree given  him  might  expect  to  have  ha})pen.  I 
would  not  even  have  mentioned  it  were  it  not  that  it  is 


r1 

, 

-I 
■1 


»:i   J 


*   -"W 


J 


TIM-:   MAN    IN    llli;   VKLVKTKKN   .lACKKT, 


8:j 


in 


(li- 


is 


iM'crssary  you  sliouM  know  tlu'si»  [ncccdfnt  trivi;ilitij««j. 
in  oidor  tliut  you  may  apiuvciato  what  I'oIIows,  and 
iiii(l(>i'staii<l  how  it  was  that  tlie  (io<;-  ruined  im>,  and  I 
hccaine  an  an<»U»r. 

"1  •;()t  th((  (h)«»'  hoiiH!  at  hist,  and  put  Iiiiii  into  the 
lios[>ital,  tor  ho  iiad  hcen  Lonsi(hMal>iy  r.'tth'd  and  was 
ont  of  i('[»aii*s,  so  to  spuak.  So  I  wrote  to  ni\  lianeee 
that  1  was  unexpectedly  detained  from  my  anticijKited 
visit  hy  a  s[)raine(l  aidvle,  hut  tiiat  1  had  the  ankle 
imch'r  treatment,  and  wouhl  surely  he  with  her  the  next 
week.  I  also  told  her  that  I  had  heen  i>resented  with 
a  heautiful  pointer  (h)«»',  one  of  the  liveliest  and  hri^ht- 
est  animals  1  had  ever  met,  and  that  I  would  hrinjj^ 
my  pet  over  when  1  came,  and  I  pleasantly  added  the 
foUowinj;- :  — 

"*P.  S.  How  deli<];litful  it  is,  niy  darlinj^,  that  hoth 
of  us  have  a  pet,  —  you  a  favorite  eat,  I  an  amiahle 
doji",  —  with  which  to  heoin  our  married  life  antl  en- 
liven  our  domestic  circle.' 

"  Alas !  how  little,"  exclainu'd  the  Man  in  the  Wd- 
veteeu  Jacket  plauitively,  —  "  how  little  can  we  mortals 
anticipate  what  is  ahead  of  us ! 

"  The  d()<4'  was  one  of  those  irrepressible  specimens 
of  canine  exuberance  that  you  could  but  admire,"  he 
continued.  "  He  was  a  born  hunter,  if  there  ever  was 
one.  He  was  nobly  free  from  partiality,  and  hunted 
one  class  of  objects  as  readily  as  another.  All  scents 
in  his  nose  meant  j»"ame.  An  old  hen  was  a  deli<»ht  to 
his  soul,  and  a  calf  kept  his  spirits  from  dej)ression. 
A  stray  pi<^  was  a  j^odsend,  and  a  timid,  ludf-broken 
colt  threw  liim  into  ecstacies.     But  it  there  was  one 


It' 


flW' 


«  '. 


i< 


3  ' 


iiii 


84 


I)AYLi<;lir    LAND. 


\ 


I't 


5  ? 


thiiiii'  oil  the  earth  that  he  vcarncd  for  more  than  an- 
other,  it  was  a  cat.  A  lar<;(',  well-huih,  positive-nuiKh'd, 
inascuHiie  eat  represented  a  whoki  heniispliere  of  j;anie 
to  him.  He  was  a  hird-doj;-  nominally,  hnt  practically 
his  ])e(lii>ree  starred  him  with  universal  adaptations. 
Nevertheless,  at  the  si<»ht  of  a  cat  he  became  super- 
sensitive. At  that  moment  there  was  no  hesitation  in 
him.  He  acted  spont.meously  and  in  a  strai<»ht  line. 
At  such  an  opportunity  he  was  always  at  full  cock  and 
Avent  olf  himsilf.  Then  it  was  that  he  seemed  ])os- 
sessed  of  a  human  soul,  and  to  realize  that  beautiful 
moral   maxim   that  '  he  who  hesitates  is  h)st.'  " 

"Oh,  Lord!"  said  the  Jud^e,  and  reachin««'  up  to 
his  linen  duster  he  extracted  a  fresh  handkerchief. 

It  was  not  because  there  was  any  remarkable  humor 
in  llie  story  that  the  Man  in  the  Velveteen  Jacket  was 
tellini;"  that  we  were  all'eited  so  strongly,  but  because 
of  his  ha[)py  mannerism  in  U'llin<»-  it,  and  the  lightness 
of  our  own  dispositions.  For  he  told  it  with  a  (piaint- 
ness  of  expression  and  a  li<»htness  of  touch  that  left 
nothin*;'  to  be  desired  by  the  hearer,  and  all  of  us 
were  in  a  mind  to  be  tickled,  and  hence  we  received 
the  reflections  of  his  humor  as  the  water  receives  the 
skv,  and  I  have  often  noted  that  the  humor  of  the 
humorist  and  that  of  the  audience  ecpudly  contribute 
to  the  lauoliter  that  ensues.  Be  this  as  it  may,  we  all 
kiui»hed  with  the  abandoinnent  of  children  at  the  nar- 
rative he  was  tellino".  And  an  hen  he  began  again  he 
did  so  with  even  a  (piicker  movement  and  a  livelier 
manner  of  expression.  If  it  were  fiction  he  was  nar- 
rating, he  had  evidently  begun  to  enjoy  it  as  if  it  were 


lU 


rilK   iMAN    IN    TIIK    VKI.VKTKEN   .lACKKT 


85 


Mil 
11- 

le 
er 
li- 
re 


real ;  Jind  if  it  were  faci,  the  ()iii»inal  sa<liiess  of  tlie 
event  was  now  wholly  ohliteiated  hy  the  mirthfiilness 
of  the  leeoUeetion. 

"  A  happier  man  than  I  lu^ver  hreathed  the  iiiorn- 
ini*'  air,"  he  resumed,  "  when  I  started  across  the  eoim- 
trv  to  visit  the  home  of  my  hetrothed.  1  pietiired  to 
myself,  as  I  swiinj;'  ah)n^-  the  country  road,  the  joy  of 
our  meetinj*'  and  the  happiness  of  our  future  lives.  I 
knew  that  the  old  doctor  had  a  temju'r  like  a  Turk, 
and  that  my  heloved  was  impulsive.  Hut  1  reilected 
with  satisfaction  that  the  one  could  not  in  the  order  of 
nature  live  forever,  and  that  the  earnest  tem|)erament 
of  the  other  would  douhtless  he  moUilied  hy  the  soft- 
eniiii;'  inilnence  of  my  example. 

"  My  doi»',  to  which  I  had  already  l>ecome  attaclied, 
shared  the  huoyancy  of  my  spirits.  He  fastened  him- 
self joyfully  on  to  every  calf  that  he  met,  and  al>hre- 
viated  the  tail  of  every  chicken  he  iMicoimtered.  Tlie 
whole  country  orew  profane  in  his  wake,  and  I 
knew  that  every  shot-oun  was  heini;'  l(»aded  for  his 
return.  Ilappv  in  the  excitement  he  created,  lie  dis- 
trihuted  his  favors  on  either  side  of  the  road  with 
ini>"enuous  impartiality,  and  hunted  with  ecpial  zest 
the  ])ii>s  in  the  meadows  and  the  cats  in  the  porches. 
The  do<»s  that  limped  int(>  their  kennels  after  he  had 
])asse(l  were  dazed  with  the  (piickness  of  their  experi- 
ence, and  1  douht  not  that  the  religious  element  of 
that  section  rememhers  to  this  day  his  advent  as  a 
visitation. 

"  I  sliall  never  he  ahle,  gentlemen,  to  make  you 
uiKh'istand  what   happened.      Even   to   me,  after  years 


^ 


It' 


It/ 

III* 


8(3 


DAYLICHT   LAND. 


of  loHoctioii,   it   remains   a   iiinhtinare   of  wild   siiilit^ 


5  * 
7 


J; 

it! 


li 


and 


.sava<»o  sounds  ;  a  kaleidoscopic  nnxtiire  oi  colors 
and  forms ;  a  vision  of  a  dreadful  meetin<»"  and  a 
more  awful  parting,  —  a  meetino-  and  a  partino-  which, 
from  the  circumstances  of  the  case,  could  never  be 
repeated. 

"  With  fond  anticii)ati()iis  1  turned  a  corner  hi  the  road 
and  suddenly  stood  within  a  few  rods  of  the  house  ;  and 
there,  <>eiitlemen,  oh,  there  was  my  liancce  waving'  her 
handkerchief  to  me,  while  the  old  doctor,  seated  in  his 
j»ii;-,  was  proudly  sliowinj;-  olf  the  pices  of  a  half- 
broken  four-year-old  colt  he  had  recently  purchased. 
Impelled  by  feelinos  too  strono'  to  be  restrained,  I  swiino- 
my  hat  joyfully  over  my  head,  «»'ave  a  cheerful  halloo, 
and  rushed  forward.  That  infernal  idiot  of  a  do*;-, 
hearin<»'  my  cry,  seein<>'  me  swinoin«»'  my  hat  and  rush- 
ini>-  down  the  road,  went  for  that  prancin*;-  colt  like  a 
freckled  mete(n'.  The  colt  saw  him  c(miini»"  and  aave 
a  tremendous  bound,  and  as  the  dog-  went  under  him 
in  a  cloud  of  dust,  he  opened  two  holes  as  bii;'  as  a  hat 
through  the  dashboard  of  the  gig,  and  then  })()lted 
down  the  road. 

""  Never  did  1  see  a  horse  and  a  dog  hiy  themselves 
lower  down  to  the  oround.  Each  was  runnin<:'  from  a 
motive,  and  each  had  an  o])iect  in  view.  Under  such 
favorable  conditions  their  pace  was  terrific  and  both 
attended  strictly  to  business.  The  old  doctor  was 
standing  up  hi  the  gig,  his  stubbly  gray  hair  })ointing 
toward  the  home  he  was  leaving,  ])iillhig  like  a  wind- 
lass at  the  reins,  hi^  linen  duster  Hying  behind  him,  and 
a  stream  of  small  bottles  pouring  out  of  each  ])ocket ! 


S 

> 


^f 


I   I 


^  I 


i«'i 


i 


1  ^ 


a 


SWl'ill 

lite, 

tciirsi 

l)('ti( 

look 

worl 

rise  (I 


a 


CO 


n 


tlio 

WOlll 

tinos! 
at  !M( 
a  tiai 

a  v 

treml 
knelt 
vows 
head 
a  Hi»' 
hope 
my  \ 
oF  e 

SI 

ami 
that 
he    ' 
tixe( 


TlIK   MAN    IN   TlIK    VKLVKTKKX   .lACKKI' 


SI) 


"I  stood  liat  in  hand  ai>l»ast  at  the  sii»ht,  bnt  —  I 
swear  to  von,  i»t'ntl(Miu'n,  had  1  died  for  it  the  next  min- 
ute, I  eouhl  not  have  hel[)ed  it  —  lani»hini;-  until  the 
tears  stood  in  my  eyes.  Su(hk'idy  1  h)oked  at  uiy 
hetrothed,  and  then  1  nearly  dropped.  I  saw  hy  the 
look  in  her  face  that  it  was  all  up  with  me,  that  my 
world  had  sto|)ped,  and  that  the  sun  would  nevernu)re 
rise  on  the  hills  of  my  love. 

"  NAr  f/toiKj/tf  I    luid  s(f    Ihdl    iiiisirdh/r  (lotj  oil   Ihc 


CO 


II  ! 


"She  never  opened  her  mouth,  hut  silently  went  into 
the  house.     I  folkiwed.     I  spoke  as  a  man  naturallv 


wo 


uld 


in  such   circumstances. 


There  was  no  hauiih- 


tiness    in   my  voice.     She   simply   turned    and   looked 
at  nu'.     Gentlemen,  there  was  no  k)ve   in  her  eves,  not 


a  trace 


Then  she  said,  — 


"  '  Sir  !  !  ! 


"  Still  I  fou<;ht  for  my  life.  Wife  and  fortune  were 
tremhlhig-  in  the  halanee.  1  saw  it.  I  ])leaded.  1 
knelt,  —  yes,  T  knelt  at  her  feet;  I  poured  out  my 
vows;  I  seized  her  unwillin<»'  hand;  I  saw  I  was  makinjj' 
headway.  She  he^-an  to  relent.  There  was  a  <*han('<', 
a  fi<»htin«>-  chance,  as  it  were.  INIv  heart  hounded  with 
hope.     Gentlemen,  I  should  li      •  won,  —  1  i»ive   Vi>  ' 


niv  word,  I  should  have  Avon. 


cl 


ose  calcn 


lat 


10"l 


of  chances,  you  can  see  I  slu  d  have  won.  When. 
—  suddenly  I  heard  a  sound,  —a  sound  1  recooiii/ed, 
and  «»laiu'in<>'  toward  the  <l'»or,  there!  —  there  stood 
that  damnahle  do<»- !  And  ti,.it  was  n't  the  worst  of  it, 
he  was  lookin<>"  ai  somethini»'  !  jookino*  steadilv  and 
fixedly  at  sontethino-,  with  that    eoppeiv  and   unearthly 


«, 


r'' 


iffii!:!* 


<    ..s-< 


m 


n"        <>  .    <) 


:n.."' 


90 


DAVLKiHT   LAM). 


-  ( 


t    . 


i! 


1' 


f   ■ 


look  in  liis  eyes  I  liad  <>t()wh  to  know  so  well.  Invol- 
untarily 1  followed  the  direction  ot*  his  «»aze,  and, 
Great  Ciesar's  Ghost !  there  un<ler  the  centre-tahle  I 
saw  my  fiancee's  cat  —  a  monstrous,  masculine  cat,  as 
yellow  as  satl'ron  and  u<»ly  as  kSatan  ! 

"  Gentlemen,  you  would  like  to  know  what  followed? 
I  cannot  tell  you.  it  w;v>  bedlam  let  loose  in  that 
beautiful  home  !  My  betrothed  <>'ave  one  scream  as 
the  (lo«»-  and  cat  met,  then  fainted.  I  map.a<»ed  to  jjet 
her  out  of  the  ynnn  and  into  the  hands  of  a  servant 
at  the  other  end  of  the  house,  and  then  I  went  back 
and  looked  into  the  apartment.  There  was  nothing"  to 
be  seen  but  revolvino-  remnants  of  furniture  and  an 
atmosphere  of  yellow  and  brown  which  occasionally 
condensed  itself  in  the  centre  and  then  broke  a<>ain 
into  concentric  rinos.  But  1  knew  Avliat  was  there 
nevertheless.  I  knew  that  in  that  yellow  and  brown 
atmosphere  there  were  two  sepaiate,  individual  entities, 
and  that  they  were  ctnat(miically  hostile  and  chemically 
opposite ;  that  sooner  or  later  those  two  entities  would 
be  resolved  into  their  elements  or  wcmld  lie  on  that 
flooi'  side  by  side,  dead ;  and  that  there  would  be  woe 
ir.  ^hat  horse ;  and  that  it  was  no  place  for  me  to  be 
i  nmd  in  aft(>r  the  old  doctor  had  returned. 

"  Under  such  awful  circumstances  1  left  the  house. 
1  never  went  back  to  it,  for  the  next  morning  I  heard 
that  the  doctor  had  been  brouo-ht  home  in  a  cart,  and 
that  distributed  resend)lances  to  a  cat  had  been  collected 
and  buried  in  the  i»arden.  No  tidino-s  reached  me  of 
my  doi»-  and  1  believed  hhn  to  be  dead.  But  I  was 
mistaken.     1  packed  my  valise  ;  T  started  for  the  train 


[ 


M , 


\\.\\ 


\t\\ 


\ 


The    dog    and    CA7     ME.T. 


■  « 


rilK   MAN    IN     rilK   VKLVKTKKN   -JACKKT. 


IKi 


with  the  IWlinj;'  of  u  iimii  Nvlio  has  lost  all  and  to  whom 
thorefoii;  no  venture  has  the  terioi'  of  ii  risk.  I  detei- 
inined  to  leave  the  country  forever  and  come  West. 
For  there,  I  reflected,  it'  anywhere  ou  the  earth,  amid 
new  scenes,  ])ursiiits,  and  conn)anionship,  I  should  he 
ahle  to  t'or«»et  the  miseries  of  the  past  or  school  myself 
to  endurance. 

'"  With  these  thoughts  in  my  mind  I  hurried  to  the 
depot,  for  the  whistle  of  the  ex[)ress  had  already 
sounded,  and  hastily  puyinj;-  for  my  ticket  started  for 
the  i>latform.  When,  —  (hvat  Heavens',  what  should 
I  see  hut  that  irrej)ressihlt'  do<;',  jauntily  trottino-  across 
the  viUa<»'e  Connnon  with  his  eye  open  for  adventine, 
and  evidently  seeking'  his  unfortunate  master. 

"  And  this  is  the  reason,  j»entlemen,  why  1  j^ave  up 
shootino'  and  hecame  un  an<>ler." 

At  the  closin*;'  word  the  si<»'nal  sounded,  the  train 
stopned,  under  a  stroni»'  application  of  the  hrakes,  on 
the  haidcs  of  a  mai;niti('ent  stream,  which  tundded 
down  from  the  mountains  in  a  succession  of  jumjis. 
into  wide,  <leep  ])ools. 

•*  Kee])  the  trout,"  exclaimed  the  man  j'ayly,  as  he 
siwuni;'  himself  down  from  the  railin*;',  and  landed  amid 
wild  flowers  that  hloomed  as  hii»h  as  his  waist ;  "  keep 
the  trout  tor  y(uir  hirder  ;  I  shall  duplicate  the  strini;' 
hefore  evenin<»." 

'•  Give  us  your  card,"  yelled  the  .Indole,  as  the  train 
started,  and  he  tluno'  his  own  j)astel)oar(l  uj)on  the 
track  ;  "  <»'ive  us  your  card  ;  how  shall  I  know  where 
to  hnd  you  next  summer?" 


'# 


I' 


ih 


9-4 


DAYI.ICHT    LAND. 


"  1  l«;iv(!n't  any  card,"  rcturiKMl  tlic  stranger,  calliii'' 
j»l('asantly  to  us  as  the  train  receded,  "  luit  come  next 
year  to  the  Nepiiion  and  hrini;'  all  your  friends,  and 
V«)U  'II  find  the  Man  in  the  Velveteen  Jacket  on  (;ne  oi 
the  pools." 


lit 


il 


». 


It 


lljim 


•*  ".ii'i 


(ilAlTKIl    VI. 

TlIK    ( MM'rAI.IST. 

(ii'i'.'it  coiitt-sl  fiillowH  and  iiiiicli  Icai'iii'd  dimt 
Iiiviilvi's  till'  I'liiiiliatants.  lacli  claiiiiiii^  truth, 
And  Triitli  disclaimiii;;'  hotli. 

\i  NE  of  tlic  lai<»('st  cities  on  tlic  conti- 
lUMit  will  stand  liorc  within  lil'tv 
years,"  said  the  .Indue;  and  lu' 
spoko  as  Ji  man  accnstoincd  to 
know  the  reasons  lor  his  jndnnitnt. 
This  sentence  was  (h'livercd  to 
our  p^roiip  as  Ave  stood  on  the  wliarf  at  Port  Artinir, 
watehinir  the  huiie  steamer,  iust  in  from  Owen's  Sound, 
ui.h)ad  its  monstrous  ear<»'o  of  freight.  Its  ])assi'ni;('rs, 
havin«»-  landed  an  hour  beforis  were  now  rolliiii;-  west- 


41 


il'l: 


1:1 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


// 


{/ 


Is 


1.0 


I.I 


*-    I. 


lim 


2.5 
2.0 


1.8 


1.25      1.4 

1.6 

^ 

6"     — 

► 

'/• 


#^ 


^;. 


7 


Photographic 

Sdences 

Corporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  NY.  14580 

(716)  872-4503 


,.^ 


£> 


90 


DAYLKillT   LAND. 


ward  to  the  prairies,  the  mountains,  and  the  sliores  of 
the  mild  ocean. 

"  I  think  just  as  you  (h),"  said  a  i>entleman  near  us ; 
"  I  think  just  as  you  (h),  sir ;  and,"  he  a(Uled  tirmly, 
"  I  have  put  up  money  on  my  faith." 

The  voice  sounded  familiar,  very  familiar.  I  glanced 
at  him,  hut  I  could  not  })lace  him  for  an  instant ;  and 
then  —  why,  certainly,  —  the  years  do  change  us,  — 
d(m't  they?  Gray?  of  course  he  should  he  i»'ray,  and 
I  thoui»ht  of  my  own  head,  and,  advancinjj;'  a  ste}), 
reached  out  my  hand. 

"  Mr.  Pepperell,"  I  said,  ''  I  am  delighted  to  <;reet 
you ;  I  did  not  recognize  you  at  first ;  your  hair  is 
wliiter  than  it  once  was.  Every  strong-  stalk  flowers 
at  hist,  eh  ?  " 

"  I  did  not  recoonize  you,  either,"  replied  Mr.  Pep- 
perell, returnino-  my  oreetino-  with  cordiality.  "  I 
did  n't  recoi>nize  you,  either,  at  first,  hut  it  was  n't 
hecause  of  your  wliiter  head,  hut  hecause  of  the  hronze 
on  your  face.  You  look  like  an  Indian  from  the 
plains." 

''  1  feel  like  an  Indian  at  least  tliree  times  a  day,"  T 
replied  ;  "  and  the  .ludjie  here  is  niakino-  an  epicure  of 
me.  Mr.  Pepperell,  allow  me  to  ])resent  you  to  Jud«>e 
Jolm  Doe,  of  San  Francisco,"  I  added.  "  Judoe,  this  is 
Mr.  Pepperell  of  Boston,  a  capitalist  of  the  Huh,  and, 
better  than  all,  a  oentleman.  I  am  hap])y  to  he  the 
means  of  hrino'inii"  vou  two  tooether."  I  said  it  heart- 
ily,  for  I  knew  them  both  to  he  <»"entlemen  of  standing', 
amiahility,  and  wit. 

"  May    I    ask,  Mr.  Pepperell,"   I  said,  after  he  had 


I  ■    i    !♦    ■  ■ 


THE    CAl'lTAIJST. 


!)7 


heeii  presented  to  tlic  otlier  lueiiibeis  oF  the  party, 
"limy  I  ask  on  what  oTounds  you  expeet  a  eity  to  he 
hiiilt  liere  in  this  <»reat  openinj;'  l)etween  the  mountains, 
on  the  shores  of*  Thunder  Bay  ?  " 

'•  The  site  of  great  cities,"  answered  Mr.  Pe[)pereil, 


—  and  he  spoke  with  that  ])ositiveness  of  expression 
and  hreadth  of  knowk'dge  whieh  characterizes  the  suc- 
cessful American,  —  "  the  site  of  oreat  cities  is  a  mat- 
ter of  o'eooraphy.  When  God  formed  the  continent, 
he  designated  where  every  city  on  it  shouhl  he  h)cated. 
Granted  a  popuhition  north   and  west  of  jNIanhattan 


S5Si 


S 


^^' 


M', 


iiiitfiir>aiijrtii"TTrTi 


98 


DAYLKIHT    LAND. 


fM' 


;>  ' 


■{  ; 


Island,  Jiiul  New  York  must  bo  built.  P()j)uliite  New 
Kniiland,  and  Boston  is  the  inevitable  result.  The 
Lachine  Rapids  and  an  iidiabited  Canada  necessitate 
Montieal.  The  prairies  of  the  West  must  have  a  eom- 
mercial  centre,  and  hence  Clnca<>().  Now  h)ok  at  this 
site.  These  mountains,  hills,  even  the  ishmds  in  front 
of  us,  are  full  of  ])recious  ores,  —  iron,  co])per  (and 
cojtper,  too,  free  from  sulphur),  silver,  i^'old,  nickel. 
Ijook  at  tins  harbor,  fenced  on  all  sides  fr(nn  i>ales, 
deep,  rooniy,  freed  from  ice  each  s|)rini»"  earlier  than 
any  other  on  the  lake.  Into  it  empties  that  river,  the 
Keministitpiia,  yonder,  up  whose  cpiiet  channel  a  steamer 
with  a  drau<>ht  of  twenty-six  feet  can  steam  for  four 
miles.  Was  there  ever  such  natural  wliarfai»e  i>iven 
for  c(nnmerce,  made  ready,  so  to  speak,  for  the  hand 
of  man  to  use,  as  those  eii>ht  miles  of  level  river 
banks?  Look  at  that  elevator  there.  It  holds  one 
million,  three  hundred  thousand  bushels  of  wheat. 
Within  sixty  days  two  more  of  the  same  size  will  stand 
beside  it.  Four  millions  of  ])ushels  acconnuodated 
where  two  years  aiiO  connnerce  had  not  laid  down  a 
sino'lc  orain.  How  many  elevators  do  you  thiidv, 
f)udi»e,  Avill  be  on  that  bank  ten  years  fr(mi  to-day? 
Last  year  those  prairies  to  the  west  produced  thirteen 
million  bushels  of  wheat.  This  yeai'  they  will  yield 
twenty  millions.  Four  years  ai»'o  scientitic  men  were 
disputino'  whether  wheat  would  orow  on  that  soil  or 
not !  The  wheat  area  west  of  us  is  larger  than  the 
whole  wheat  area  of  the  United  States.  The  soil  of 
this  vast  belt  is  virgin  soil,  rich,  inexhaustible.  1  am 
talkino-  horn  knowledge,  oentlemen.    I  have  been  there 


Tlir<:   ("AI'ITALIST, 


1)0 


and   looked    into   tliis    thiiiii',  and  T  know  tliat    inidci 


decent  cultivation  every  acre  will  yield  forty  bushels  of 
liner  (jnality  than  the  wheat  of  dalifornia  or  Russia. 
How  much  wheat  do  you  tliink  will  he  raised  in  tliat 
vast  wheat  helt  yonder  twenty-live  years  hence?  And 
how  is  it  to  reacli  the  markets  of  the  world  ?  It  must 
o'o  south  to  the  States,  or  it  is  cou)in<»'  here  to  Thunder 


] 


>av 


Th 


dv   t 


lese  are  the  only   two  directions   it  can 


\V 


in    its  exit.      And  so  I  sav 


aiK 


11 


ve  l)a( 


ked 


mv 


tal 
faith 


with   my  money,  that   here  on   this  heautiful   site  will 


sprin<»'  up  one  ot  the  <>reat  cities  or  the  continent 


f  th 


Mr.  J^ 


ennereH's  i)resentation   o 


1>P 


1 


f  tl 


le  siio 


ject 


was  lis- 


tened to  with  the  oravest  attention  hy  all  the  oroup, 
in  which,  if  the  fact  must  he  stated,  there  was  more 
money  seekini»'  investment  than  is  often  found  on  any 
l)articular  wharf.  The  Yankee  can  look  up  a  Ion*;' 
perspective  with  a  <>()()(1  dollar  at  the  other  end  of  it, 
and  this  northwestern  section  of  ^\w  continent  is  al- 
ready attractini;'  a  deal  of  attention  in  the  States,  from 
shrewd,  far-sit>hted  men. 

"Mr.  Pej)perell,"  remarked  the  .Iudi»e,  "iny  own 
judgment,  based  u])on  careful  forecast,  sustains  your 
o[)ini()ii  fully.  Illinois  is  a  oreat  State.  It  is  larocr  in 
arable  acres  than  England  and  Wales  with  their  l)oi)u- 
lation  of  twenty-six  millions.  The  State  of  Illinois  can 
sii])))ort  twenty  millions  of  p()])ulation  easily.  But  the 
productive  area  of  this  western  Canada  is  ten  times 
larger  than  the  State  of  Illinois.  Two  hundred  millions 
of  ])eople  can  be  siip])()rted,  richly  su])ported,  north  of 
the  f(n'ty-ninth  ])arallel.  Five  hundred  miles  north  of 
the  international  boundary  you   can  sow  wheat  three 


i  r 


100 


DAYLKliri'    LAND. 


W. 


■I  \ 

ill 


f 

i 


\v('<'ks  cai'lier  tlian  you  can  in  Dakota.  Tlio  climate 
is  milder  in  the  valley  of  tlu;  Peace  Jliver  than  it  is  in 
Manitoba.  Tliest;  i»reat  facts  of  Nature  are  simiificant 
and  imj)iessive  ;  none  the  less  so  l)ecause  up  to  this 
time  they  have  had  little  advertisement  and  are  known 
to  a  comparative  few.  Yes,  sir,  you  are  right ;  there 
must  he  a  <»reat  city  here." 

"  The  fact  is,"  resumed  Mr.  Pe])perell,  and  he  spoke 
with  t]w  enthusiasm  which  characterizes  the  American 
when  speakino-  of  his  country,  "  the  people  of  this  con- 
tiiuMit  have  only  just  <»'ot  started.  On  our  side  of  the 
line  we  are  sixty  millions,  which  are  only  the  seed  of 
the  six  hundred  millions  that  are  to  he.  People  talk  a 
deal  ahout  the  capacity  of  this  continent  to  produce 
bushels  and  pounds,  orain  and  meat.  Why  don't  they 
houre  on  that  higher  problem,  —  the  cai)acity  to  pro- 
duce men  ?  Granted  a  good  clunate,  a  productive  soil, 
cheap  fuel,  absence  of  war,  popularized  knowledge,  and 
the  ennobling-  influences  of  liberty,  and  what  Hmit  can 
you  put  to  the  devek)pment  of  such  a  people,  not  in 
resources  alone  but  in  numbers?  Why  should  they 
not  multiply  and  increase  and  possess  the  land  ?  Un- 
less we  go  to  cutting  each  other's  throats,  half  the  pres- 
ent poi)ulation  of  the  globe  will  be  living  on  this  con- 
tinent within  three  hundred  years." 

"  Gad  !  "  said  the  Judge,  "  I  was  born  too  early  !  " 

"I  have  a  friend,"  I  remarked,  'Svho  predicts  — 
and  he  is  n't  a  Vennor  either  —  that  Chicaao  will  ulti- 
mately  have  a  population  of  fifteen  millions." 

"  I  have  n't  a  doubt  of  it,"  said  one  of  the  grou]), 
calmly. 


i  •■ 


?,  f 


til 


TIIK   (AIMTALIST 


101 


"  Ell  !  Wliut !  "  cxclainu'd  the  .Iiidoe,  "  Iiow  is  it  you 
arc  so  positive? " 

"It  is  ji  iiKittur  of  knowk'diiX',"  returned   the  man. 


"  jibsolute  kiiowled<4e." 

"  Kii()wledi»e  !  "  exeluinied  the  .ludi>'e,  "  lu)\v  is 
that?" 

"  Tlie  <>eutleuiau  looked  at  the  Ju(li>'e  eonteni|)la- 
tively  for  a  few  nunuents,  then  said,  "  /  trt/s  horn 
then' !  " 

"0  Lord!"  exelainu'd  the  .Iud<>e,  "  wliere 's  tlu; 
train?"  And  l)reakini>"  up  with  laughter  we  started 
for  our  ear. 

No  sooner  were  we  on  hoard  the  train  and  collected 
in  the  smoking  room  —  that  most  companionahle  sjjot 
for  smokers  on  the  earth  —  than  the  spirit  of  the 
oroup  underwent  a  eharaeteristie  clian<»e.  With  one 
or  two  exee[)ti()ns  it  hap])ened  that  we  represented  the 
jrieat  prooressive  Reiiuhlic;  and  that  lar^e  class  of 
travelers,  whose  number  is  legion,  that  are  to-day  with 
lavish  expenditures  ransacking  the  globe  —  a  class  who 
po  armed  with  more  stories  and  more  cash  than  the 
Avorld  ever  had  carried  round  it  before.  On  the  whaif 
Mr.  Pei)perell  Avas  the  impersonation  of  business  ability 
and  foresight ;  sharp,  incisive,  edged  like  a  razor,  a 
man  whose  forecast  was  that  of  a  statesman  and  whose 
language  was  that  of  a  i)rince  among  financiers.  With 
millions  to  hivest,  he  had  on  the  one  hand  a  full  sense 
of  financial  responsibility,  and  on  the  other,  the  C(uir- 
age  of  his  iud«»'ment.  For  he  had  examined  the  field 
of  his  investments  for  hhnself,  not  trustino-  to  the  eves 
or  the  words  of  another,  and  hence  he  knew  the  almost 


I  j  ■  i 


102 


DAVI.KIIIT   i.AM). 


Louiidlcss  rcsoiu'ccs  ol'  tlic  (MMiiitrv  and  liad  full  t'ait'i 
ill  its  d('V('l()|»iiM'iit.  Hill  oiico  in  tlir  car  he  was  no 
l()iio('r  a  linancicr,  no  longer  llic  Inisincss  inan.  no 
loiii'cr  the  speculator,  hut  an  American  traveler,  jo- 
vial, (|iiaint,  liiimoroiis,  vivacious  ol'  s|»eecli.  and  loaded 
to  the  muzzle  with  anecdote 


(C 


'Jii    won 


hi 


never   sns 


|K  .'t. 


itl 


ii'entlemeii. 


P 


>ernai»s 


said     Ml'.    I'epperell,    as    he    took    his    cij^ar    Irom    his 
mouth  aiui  l)icw  a  (h)zeii  iiiii;s  ol'   hliie   smoke   into   the 

ail' ;     ''  vou     would 


ever  suspect    that 
ted 


was  once   ous 


n 
1 

— eom[)letelv,  over- 
Avhelmino'ly  husted. 
In     '4S     I     crossed 


th 


1 


le   niains 


J 


was 


youn<»'.  1  liad  an 
attack  of  the  i»'ohl 
fever  —  had  it  had. 
I  made  s(nne  monev 


am 
of 


I  iiot 


I  2(>0( 


ex[)erience 


Ideal 
lint 

on  the  wjiole,  luck 
was  a<»ainst  me. 
After  ten   years  of 


1 


k 


?^ii()cKini»"  ahont, 
durinii'  whi(  h  1  was 
the  rolliiii*'  stone  of 
tlie  proverl),  with  hnndreds  of  otlier  old  time  Califor- 
nians  1  started  for  the  Fraser.  My  iirst  experience  in 
British    Colund)ia    was    at    American    Bar.   hel(>w    the 


'».v    f 


(• 


niK  ("AIMTAlJsr. 


lo;; 


IJIjick  Ciiridii.  ;iii(l   I  sliarcd  tliat   ma^nilicciit  Itit  of  luck 
with    niv   counti'viiicii.      I'lisliiiiin'    lartlu'r    up    into   the 


eountiv  —  after  tlie  Bar 
had  played  out  —  I  struck 
one  of  the  tril)utaries  of 
the  Tlioui])sou.  ])ay  oravel 
of  the  richest  sort.  I  Avas 
ah)ue  and  1  decided  to 
work  it  alone ;  I  had  a 
mule  aiul  a  l)illy  o()at 
that  liad  followed  nie 
"svheu     the      i;reat    cauip 


5     -ir 


ii  ^ 


I ' 


iii'^ 


.   I  f  ■ '  I 


rl 


I.- 


:'.  *1 


•■:  ;( 


!'|l 


m^ 


101 


DAVLKillT    LAM). 


it , 


it 

■1     !■ 


U 


6  V 


li 


Itroko  U|)  at  AMU>i'ic;iii  Hiir,  u  liap-lia/anl  ini])iils(>  on  his 
part  jH'ol>al)ly,  for  iu^  was  the  loia^cr  ol"  the  cam]) 
and  not  a  man  claimed  tho  least  o\vn(>rslii[)  in  him. 
He  had  [H'ohahly  hccn  lost  and  won  more;  times  at 
poker  than  any  other  hit  of  ])roperty  on  the  fae(3  of 
the  earth.  Indeed,  he  was  the  nniversal  resort  of  all 
of  lis  when  hanUrn[>ted  at  that  lively  and  faseinatiiii;' 
oame ;  for  two  reasons,  —  Hist,  heeanse  he  was  no 
one's  property,  and  second,  his  valne  was  tlexihle  ;  it 
had  an  elastic  (piality  ahont  it  which  accomniochiled 
the  necessities  of  the  man  who  liad  lost,  and  iiiinis- 
ti^red  to  the  amnsenient  of  the  man  who  had  won. 
The  lunnher  of  men  Avhom  that  «;'oat  had  started  on 
the  road  to  fortune  will  never  he  ascertained,  and  the 
multitu(h'  who,  when  they  had  recklessly  <;and)led  their 
last  article  of  >'ahie  away,  with  oaths  or  with  hiujihter 
claimed  one  more  deal  on  the  streniith  of  that  yoat  as 
a  personal  chattel  helonoinj;'  exclusively  to  themselves, 
was  probahly  e{pial  to  the  census  of  the  camp.  lie 
had  heccmie,  therefore,  both  the  hispiration  and  the 
consolation  of  us  all ;  a  piece  of  communal  proi)erty 
of  acconnnodating-  value,  which  every  man,  at  one  time 
or  another,  had  conteuiplated  with  hope  or  with  <»Tati- 
tude ;  an  ohject  of  universal  solicitude,  and  of  which 
American  Bar  was  justly  proiul.  His  temperament  and 
his  habits  were  such  as  belonoed  to  his  oenus.  If  his 
animatin<»-  i)rinciple  was  ever  any  other  than  curiosity, 
surely  no  one  discovered  it,  and  if  he  ever  lost  an  op- 
portunity to  hit  a  man  when  a  favorable  one  ottered,  it 
never  was  known.  He  followed  me  as  my  mule  ambled 
out  of  the  camp  as  he  might  any  other  of  the  six  bun- 


I 


I. 


l;ir 


iu. 


IIIK   (' AlMT\I,I.S'r. 


10.1 


<Ii-(mI  men  who  were  tlicic,  aiid  attiiclicd    liiiiiscit'  t<»  iii\ 
fortunes   with   that    wliinisicahicss  of    motive    whicli    is 
|)i-ohal)ly  (>.\|>lainahh>  only  to  tlie  mind   of  ii  <;-oat.      His 
iiaino  was   Pcicussion,  a    name  whicli, 
witli  facH'tions  approjuiateness,  had 
heen  «»iven  to   him   l»y  a  tall    Ala-         ^ 
hamian    one    mornin«;'    innnedi- 
ately  after  u  personal  experi- 
ence   by    which    the    iiumo 
was   suddenly   su<»'<»'ested, 


*  if ' 


and  whicli  caused  the  <*hristenin«»'  to  !)«'  accompani<Ml 
with  considerable  profanity. 

"  1  cannot  say  that  my  ail'ections  were  greatly  in»- 
])ressed  because  Percussion  followed  me  out  of  the 
camp,  nor  did  T  feel  the  insinuations  of  flattery  be- 
cause he  thus  showed  his  ])artiality  for  my  companion- 
ship ;  for  I  had  indisputable  evidence  that  in  nature  he 
was  wholly  void  of  a  conscience,  and  utterly  unable 
to  distinj»uish  between  friend  an<l  foe.  Nor  was  I  de- 
ceived by  the  apparent  amiability  of  his  conduct,  for 
durinjr  the  time  he  was  with  uie  I  never  dropped  my 
habit  of  watchfulness,  or  saw^  any  evidence  in  the  con- 
duct of  Percussion  that  would  warrant  my  doin<;'  so. 
If  the  old  reprobate  ever  dreamed  of  reform,  the  vision 


km; 


DAVLKiirr    I, AND. 


<>r    iIk!   iiii;lit    lu'vrr   .ilVcctcd   in  tlw  Ic.isl    the  Ii.iImIs  of 
lilt!  fl.iy. 

'•  \in\   ('Mil    well    ini;ii;iii(',"  coiitiniicil    Mi.  IN'|>|km('II, 
as  lit'  li^lilcd  a  licsli  cii^ar,  "  that  I  worked 
\\\i<t  tiiwi  lor  all    it  was  wititli.      liv  clviiiii* 
/^\j      <»iit    iiiv    piovisioiis    with    the    lu'l|»   of   the 


-:j*^ 


/T/     ■,.^      limit    ill  I  lie  si 


,(■ 


V 


ream, 
»t  f 


I 


iiiaiiau'('<l  t<*  I'ciiiaiii 


'^   tl 


Ml  the  loii(>lv  spot  tor  iicarlv  a  iiioiitli,  aiK 


il 


ic 


•  Intel 


I,  Ih>iiii;'  altsoliitelv  without  provisions. 


I    was   driven    to  leave;    I    was    the    more 
williiii;'   to   do   so    lieeanse,  as  nearlv  as  I 
eonld   estimate,  I    was  in    possession    of   lifty   tlionsand 


dollars    worth  ol  dust  and  nnj»i»'('l^. 

"The  last  evenini;'   I    spent  in  tlu^  camp  I  devoted  to 
arraniiinji'    for    transportation    and    t(» 
pietnriiii;'   the   delights    of   the   future. 


Percussion    had    not    lacked   entertain- 


meiit,  for  while  I  was  acciimiilatin<^' 
wealth,  he  was  actively  eni;ai»'ed  in  eol- 
lectino-  data  for  reminiscence.  'IMie 
white  o'oats  of  the  mountain,  so  rare  south  of  the  na- 
tional line,  were  plentiful  in  the  crab's  around  my 
camp,  and  more  than  once  had  I  he(>ii 
amused  in  coiitemplatini*'  a  contest  he- 
tween  Percussion  and  some  fac-simile  of 
his  of  the  hills  ;  a  contest  which  I  am 
hound  to  say  invariahly  terminated  in 
favor  of  the  champion  of  the  camp.  It 
was  plainly  a  case  in  which  civilized  trainint*'  liad  achled 
to  the  ])i'owess  of  nature,  and  steady  |)ractice  witli  a 
variety  of  subjects  made  him  master  of  liis  art. 


i  \ 


^L 


') 


I      II 


'ON    A    CLIFF,   STOOD    PERCUSSION. 


!  «■  \ 


ft 


•1  i 


1 


TIIK  CAl'ITALlsr. 


10!) 


/' 


W^ 


S,;,; i'"      \ 


W1' 


"  I  was  lip  Avitli  the  dawn  on  the  inoriiiiii;'  set  for  my 
departure,  and  started  at  once  for  the  Uttle  intervale 
a  niih3  or  more  distant,  wliere  my  mule  was  i«razini;'. 
1  eai)tured  it  without  diffieulty,  and  was 
in  the  act  of  nu)untin<»'  when  I  lieard  a 
noise  as  of  a  worhl  rushini*'  to  ruin.  The 
eartli  shook  beneath  my  feet,  and  the 
mule  trembled  with  terror.  I  knew  what 
it  meant.  I  spran<^  to  his  back,  and 
s[)iirred  him  recklessly  up  the  trail.  I  reached  the 
brow  of  the  declivity  that  overlooked  the  <>ulcli  where 
1  had  labored.  1  need  not  describe  what  1  saw.  The 
face  of  the  mountain  to  the  west  had  disappeared,  and 
in  the  place  of  a  mighty  forest  was  a  broad  tract  of 
bare  rock.     The    Slide    had    oono  down   throuoh   the 

<>ulch,  and  scoured  it  to  the  founda- 
tion ledaes.  The  transformation  was 
complete.  Not  a  familiar  object  was 
left,  save  one.  On  a  cliff  fifty  feet 
above  the  si)ot  where  my  fortune  had 
been  found  and  lost  stood  Percussion, 
his  tail  trend)lino-  with  excitement  and 
his  horns  lowered.  It  was  the  only 
o})p()rtunity  of  his  life  that  had  ])assed 
unimproved.  I  called  to  him  to  follow  me,  but  he  re- 
fused to  budoe.  Perhaps  he  thou<»'ht  another  Slide 
would  occur,  or  had  a  duel  in  mind  for  the  morrow.  15e 
that  as  it  may,  I  left  him  to  his  reflections  and  his  en- 
«>a<>e)nents,  and  little  thinkino*  that  1  should  ever  see 
him  again,  I  reined  my  mule  down  the  trail,  an  utterly 
despondent  man." 


i^' 


no 


DAYLKJUT   LAXI). 


it< 


5  'i 


:  » 


Tn  s])ite  of  tlie  fact  that  wo  were  listeniiio-  to  tlie 
story  of  a  misfortune  that  inii»ht  well  overwhelm  witli 
(les])aii'  any  ])erson  on  whom  it  had  fallen,  there  was 
not  a  sober  face  in  the  crowd  w^hen  Mr.  Pej)i)erell  had 
l)roui»ht  us  to  that  point  of  his  narration  which  pre- 
sented him  to  us  in  the  most  ])itial)le  condition.  The 
awful  ruin  which  the  savage  Slide  had  wroui;ht,  Per- 
cussion on  the  clilf  in  the  attitude  of  dehance,  the 
trend)lin<>'  nude  and  the  woe-l)e<;()ne  rider  thus  bereft 
of  his  fortune  in  a  minute,  —  all  these  Ave  saw  as  if 
l)ainted  in  striking'  colors  on  a  canvas.  Aiul  yet,  not 
a  face  in  our  oroup  showed  the  least  evidence  that  we 
felt  ourselves  in  the  presence  of  disaster. 

'"  I  can  see,"  said  Mr.  Pei)perell,  as  he  h)oked  at  our 
faces,  "  I  can  see,  gentlemen,  that  you  soberly  realize 
the  extent  of  my  misfortunes,  and  a})preciate  the  seri- 
ousness of  my  position.  I  was  huxied,  I  tell  you,  for 
I  started  down  that  trail  without  a  doUar  in  my  pocket 
or  a  crust  in  my  saddle-bai»s.  And  yet  fortune  was 
niii'li.  For  1  had  not  <»()ne  a  mile  down  the  trail  when 
I  came  to  a  small  cam])  in  which  1  found  not  only 
needed  refreshment  but  a  sjjeculation  which  brouoht 
to  me  the  bei'innino;  of  my  fortune. 

"  The  party  into  whose  cam])  I  had  thus  fortunately 
stmubled  was  one  of  ex])l()ration  in  the  interest  of 
science,  and  was  headed  by  a  >cientitic  man  of  extraor- 
dinary zeal,  enormous  vanity,  vast  ])retensious,  and 
devoid  of  common  sense. 

"  Now  if  there  is  one  class  of  men  I  venerate  more 
than  others,  it  is  the  scientiiic  class.  It  is  true  T  am 
not  given  over  much  to  veiu'ration,  for  as  it  ha])pens, 


iff 


.-•••s^lSlSl,. 


t 


if; 


mi 


1  ! 


w 


THE    PATH    OF    THE    AVALANCHE. 


1  li 


I  •;  i 


^  i 


V  ' 


THE   CAl'ITALIS'l'. 


nii 


l)V  somo  armii<>'oineiit  for  which  I  have  nevor  hccn 
ahle  to  feel  mysell'  responsihle,  in  that  seetioii  of  my 
eraniiuu  where  l)y  ri<»hts  tliere  shoiihl  he  an  emineiiee, 
is  a  kind  of  prairie  Hatntss,  — a  dead  level  as  it  were. 
It  is  eonsolini»"  to  think  that  1  am  not  answerahle  for 
this  defeet,  and  I  have  derived  i»reat  satisfaction  in  my 
lite  hy  shnfHini*'  it  olf  npon  my  ancestors,  when  at  times 
conscience  rel)nked  me  at  some  hreacli  of  decornm,  or 
most  inappropriate  hnrst  of  lani»hter. 

"  I  am  happy  to  reflect  that  pre-natal  intlnences  are 
answerahle  for  the  major  part  of  my  weaknesses,  and, 
as  I  devontly  hope,  for  the  majority  of  my  sins.  1  sin- 
cerely trnst  that  they  will  he  pnnished  as  they  deserve. 
The  more  they  catch  it,  the  hetter  my  chances  ajtju'ar. 
I  am  ready  to  accept  withont  reserve  the  harshest 
dogmas  of  theology  so  long'  as  they  have  no  applica- 
tion to  myself. 

"  Nevertheless,  in  spite  of  this  natnral  defect  in  my 
make-np,  I  have  peculiar  feelings  toward  the  average 
devotee  of  science.  1  recognize  in  him  a  superior  crea- 
tion, lie  is  the  only  heing  I  have  ever  met  whose 
mind  seems  ahle  to  work  wholly  inde])endent  of  facts. 
The  facility  with  which  he  invents  his  needed  theories 
tills  me  with  admiration,  and  the  audacity  of  his  imagi- 
nation in  supplying  himself  with  the  necessary  data  for 
his  conclusions  is  a  soiuce  of  pleasant  surprise.  It 
delights  me  to  recall  that  the  most  noted  leaders  of 
science  were  certain,  a  few  centuries  ago,  that  the 
glohe  was  as  Hat  as  a  shingle ;  that  the  Avhirling  earth 
on  which  we  live  had  no  motion  ;  that  the  sun,  moon, 
and  stars  revolved  around  it  as  a  centre  and  sum  of  the 


I  t 


114 


DAYLKillT   LAND. 


Itl  1 


I'l 


"';• 


i     f 


■i 


liiviit  iiiiivcM'se  ;  tliat  tlic  hlood  in  the  lunnan  Ixxlv  stood 
still ;  and  that  the  worthy  sncfossors  of  those  teac'licis 
of  accurate  kno\vk'(l«»(s  these  men  who  supplant  reli- 
gion, and  substitute  knowledge  for  faith  and  reason 
for  [)ietv,  are  now  convinced  that  all  the  sui)erlicial 
])henoinena  of  the  «»lol)e,  iiududin*;',  of  course,  the  live 
Great  Lakes  of  this  continent,  are  accounted  for  hy 
the  almost  imperceptible  and  trivial  movement  of  ^'  i- 
ciers.  Any  class  of  men  Avitli  such  a  record  receive 
from  uu'  the  sanu'  overwhelmiuii'  deference  ^vhich  1 
involuntarily  <>ive  to  DeFoe,  and  the  author  of  the 
'  Arabian  Nights.'  I  yield  them  the  respect  and  ad- 
miration due  the  chiefest  romancers  of  the  race. 

"  I  had  no  sooner  reached  his  camp  than  the  man  of 
science  approached  me  and  made  known  his  mission. 
It  was  to  ca])ture  a  sj)ecimen  of  the  oenuine  Rocky 
Mountain  Goat. 

"" '  I  am  anxious,'  he  explained, '  to  obtain  possessicm, 
in  the  interest  of  science,  of  a  real  (Japer  Jlorridi'Sy 
in  order  that  I  may  not  only  actpiire  indis])utable 
knowledoe  of  his  anat(miical  structure,  but  fix  beyond 
peradventure,  —  and  u])on  this,  sir,  learned  bodies  have 
most  differed,  —  Avhat  are  his  characteristic  habits.  If 
you  can  assist  me  to  obtain  a  s[)ecimen,  you  will  not 
only  be  a  humble  instrument  of  extending"  the  boun- 
daries of  scientific  research,  but  I  will  remunerate  you 
Avitli  the  sum  which  has  been  i)ut  at  my  disposal  by 
the  learned  body  of  men  whose  president  I  am,  namely, 
two  huiulred  and  fifty  dollars  in  i»()ld.' 

"•  I  trust,"  ex])lained  Mr.  Pepperell,  humbly,  "  that 
Heaven   has  foroiven  me  for  the  du})licity  of  my  con- 


if  :' 

If' 


rilK   CAPITALIST. 


115 


at 
11- 


(hict  jit  that  jiinfturo  of  my  t'ortuiu's.  It  was  a  dread- 
ful toinptatioii.  You  can  sue,  i;ontk'nu>ii,  that  it  was. 
1  was  buf^ti'd.  Tliu  geiitleiiiaii  wanted  a  dijtcr  llorrl- 
(hfs.    1  kiie^"  where  he  was.      He  was  a  genuine  Cdjxr, 


that  I  knew,  and  as  for 
tlie  Ilorrifhfs  part,  I 
felt  I  could  safely  leave 
it  for  the  man  of  sci- 
ence to  discover  for 
liimself.  Had  1  reflect- 
ed I  mii>ht  have  aitted 
with  oreater  innocence. 
But  as  it  was,  without 
an  instant's  hesitation, 
T  assured  the  man  of  science  that  I  knew  where  there 
was  a  o'eiiuine  (^apcr  ;  a  veritahle  J/orridus  of  the 
erases,  and  that  1  could  lead  him  directly  to  his 
hahitat.  But  I  distinctly  declared  1  would  have  n()th- 
in<»'  to  do  with  the  capture  of  the  terrihle  creature,  and 
that  I  must  he  paid  inv  money  in  advance. 

"  The  man  of  science  was  (Udii>hted.  He  paid  me  the 
money  without  an  instant's  delay,  fearino-  douhtless 
that  T  would  withdraw  my  oifer  or  lift  my  price.      He 


\h      '■ 


.1 ', 

^.. 

IK) 


DAVI.ICirr    LAND. 


i'fif 


M 


assured  nu»  that  lie  needed  no  assistance;  tliat  seieneo 
liad  already  ascertained  that,  wliile  excessively  curious, 
the  ( *(i/n'r  llnrridns  hy  nature  was  hannh'ss,  and  that 
no  hands  l)ut  his  own  shoidd  make  the  ('a])ture,  the 
lame  of  which  would  carry  his  name  round  the  world. 
"  Vou  can  see,  «»'enth'men,  that  in  the  case  of  two  per- 
sons animated  hy  motives  which  inspired  hoth  of  us, 
there  was  no  reason  for  delay.  1  hitched  my  nuilo 
therefore  in  position  to  facilitate  niountinj;',  if,  as  I 
anticipated,  I  should  return  in  a  hurry,  and  with  the 
man   of  science  at  my  heels,  proceeded   directly  up  the 

trail.  1  did  not 
k  n  o  w  e  X  a  c  1 1  y 
where  I  should  lind 
my  former  c(mipan- 
ion,  hut  I  made  no 
(h)uht  that  the  old 
reprohate  was  still 
near  the  path  of 
the  Land  Slide, 
and  that  we  should 
find  him  in  a  l)el- 
li<»'erent  mood. 
And  sure  enouoh, 
we  had  not  o<)ne 
more  than  two  thirds  the  distance,  when  lookino'  care- 
fully over  the  top  of  a  boulder,  standing'  in  an  attitude 
of  listenino-  as  if  anticipating-  another  Slide,  there  stood 
Percussion  ! 

"  iVow  as  you  know,  oentlemen,  there  is  a  good  deal 
of  ^  dynamite  '  in  a  billy  g()jit.     It  won't  do  to  drop 


\\  ;' 


h 


j|' 


TiiK  cArrrALisT. 


117 


on  to  Olio  suddciilv  unless  you  wish  to  be  lifted.  Any 
man  ^vllo  runs  against  a  <»()at  suddenly  >\itlioiit  tele- 
<;Tapliin<»'  him  beforehand,  aets  as  it'  his  l>usiness  educa- 
tion had  been  ne«»leeted.  For  a  ^oat  is  the  eiubodi- 
meiit  of  a  terrific;  enei'oy  Avlien  aroused,  and  nothiii*;' 
starts  him  ((uieker  tiian  a  sudden  appearaiiee.  Any 
man  \vlio  a[)[)roaehes  him  without  eireunis|)e('tion  is 
liable  to  lose  some  part  of  himself,  as  it  were.  More 
than  (me  man  has  lost  his  bahmee  and  his  self-respect 
by  such  carelessness.  B  th  these  essentials  of  staiid- 
iiii»'  and  eharaeter  are  apt  to  remam  absent  durini*'  the 
entire  interyiew. 

"  A  o()at  is  endowed  "vvith  <»Teat  (|uiekness  of  appre- 
hension and  he  aets  on  his  impulses.  When  a  i»()at  of 
the  masculine  <«ender  stands  and  <»azes  at  you  with  a 
look  of  curious  delii)eration  in  his  eyes,  you  will,  if  you 
are  a  rational  beini;',  proin[)tly  i)ick  the  nearest  tree  and 
<»et  behind  it.  This  is  the  only  wise  course  to  ado])t. 
Nor  shoidd  you  be  slow  in  doini>"  this.  It  is  not  safe 
to  take  any  chances  with  a  billy  j»'oat  if  he  is  within 
fifty  feet  of  you  and  has  ui  his  own  mhid  decicU'd  to 
act.  You  cannot  rely  on  his  remainini»'  where  he  is 
any  considerable  leiii»tli  of  tune.  He  is  ai)t  to  moye 
suddenly,  and  when  he  moves  he  always  moves  in  a 
straight  line,  and  with  his  objective  point  clearly  in 
view. 

"  To  know  a  ooat  thorou<»hly,  <>-entlemen,  I  am  coii- 
vuiced  that  a  man  should  be<»in  his  investi'»atioiis  in 
.childhood.  The  knowledge  needed  is  not  accpiired 
readily  by  an  adult.  A  man  can  pilot  a  steamboat  bet- 
ter than  a  boy,  but  to  steer  a  i»()at  successfully  into  a 


t 

( 


lis 


DAYI.Kilir    I.AM). 


H' 


n 


,t  i 


■I  ( 


I 


I  *' 


♦'* 


'i 


i.   ': 


piuldoclv  without  iiuy  hack  action  ol'  the  paddles  is  a 
f'ciit  ;it  wiiicli  a  hoy  will  hciit  his  tatiicr  every  tinio. 
Tile  innocent  s|)i'ii;htliness  of  (Nirly  iil'e  is  an  essential 
element  of  success  in  such  .in  innlertakiui;'.  A  deacon 
ot  mature  a«;"e  and  dij^nity  of  character  mii;ht  do  it,  hut 
he  would  lu'ver  he  fit  to  hold  his  office  after  he  had 
linished  the  joh.  His  record  would  he  hrokeii,  as  it 
were.  What  he  had  i;aiin'(l  in  lluency  of  expression 
he  would  have  lost  in  resit;nation  of  spirit  and  the 
sweet  placidness  of  his  vocahulary.  A  deacon  should 
always  leave  the  mana«»'enu'nt  of  a  hilly  ««()at  to  his 
hired  hoy,  and  keep  out  of  heariui;-  when  the  hoy  and 
the  «»<)at  are  in  close  connuiniication,  too.  Any  ma- 
terial <le[)arture  from  this  rule  will  always  result  in  un- 
hiippinesK.  The  manners  of  the  o'oat  Avill  ])e  s[)()iled, 
and  the  deacon  —  if  the  matter  he  fully  reported  — 
Avill  surely  h)se  his  office. 

"  A  o'oat  is  like  any  other  hii>hly  organized  creation. 
He  learns  evil  fast  and  foroets  it  slowly.  He  is  a  crea- 
ture of  vanity,  and  relishes  success.  After  he  has 
learned  a  man's  anatomy  by  experhnent,  the  kn()wledi;e 
is  fixed  in  his  mind  forever.  Time  may  ohliterate  the 
impression  he  has  made  on  you,  l)ut  it  never  obliterates 
the  im])ression  y(m  have  made  on  him.  Years  may 
pass ;  your  hairs  may  he  whiter  and  his  coarser,  hut  if 
he  ever  i»ets  a  chance  to  hit  you  a<»ain,  your  years  and 
venerable  appearance  will  not  save  you.  The  old  rep- 
robate will  hit  you  in  the  same  spot.  I  have  never 
been  able  to  satisfactorily  explain  this  to  my  own  mind, 
but  the  fact  remains.     I  have  seen  it  demonstrated. 

"  Yes,  there  stood  Percussion.     1  ducked  my  head 


I )' 

■  t. 
i 


aiK 


iMiK  ('ArrrAi,isi' 


I   Ih>('I\<)IU'(I  to   the  lUMii  ol'  science 


Hi) 


He   I 


tOIIIK 


led  t 


(I 


iiiy  side,  and  .shakiiij;'  witli  excitement,  [»eered  over  tlie 


l)o\vl(ler  iit  liiiii. 


<t  i 


A  ( 


''7 


nr 


7/ 


orndits 


hi 


le    <»as|»e( 


6 


Viih 


!  A   t 


I'lU! 


//. 


(H't'tffKS 


ll 


.1. 


10  excliunied    lioarsely 


A 

I  h 


L>'eiiiiiiu> 


•1' 


.s,  iiK/ri  ;  conn,  cwviih  ;  vnjtnl,  corniihis  ;  tu- 


nas. 


urs 


iiliit 


hnh'il 


II X,      (ll/l/lS 


7; 


A 


lotiinin     iniiK'iis. 


a  i 


And    Fmnl>lin;4'    in    his    pocket     lor    liis   note-lfooU,    lu» 
daslied  aronnd  tlio  bowlder  and  starte(l   lor  IVrcnssion. 

"  I  cannot  describe  what  roilowed.  I'ercussion  was 
at  his  host  or  his  worst  tliat  nioinini*'.  He  had  missed 
om)  i»reat  ()p[)ortnnity,  and  was  in  no  mood  to  ho 
triihid  with.  Ilo  strnck  the  man  oF  science  at  tiie  pro- 
cise  s|)ot  selectod  in  his  own  mind,  and  with  the  I'orco 
ol' a  catapult.  Hi  howled  him  past  the  point  ol' icxtk 
hehind  which  1  was  crouched  as  it'  ho  had  heen  a  j)ack- 
hasket.  His  im|)otus  l)roni»ht  him  within  si«>ht  and  he 
came  Jit  nio  as  it'  I  was  a  land  slide. 

You  niiseraldi^  cuss,'  1  exclaimed,  *  don't  vou 
know  your  benot'actor  ? '  And  1  went  uj)  ji  tioe.  [ 
yelled  to  the  man  of  scieneo  to  li<»ht  out.  Ho  recov- 
ered his  hreath  and  his  le«»s  nt  the  same  tinu'  and  lico- 
chottod  down  the  trail  as  if  fired  out  of  a  colund)tad, 
yellin<»',  '  Caper  I[orridus  !  '  '  Caper  Horridus  !  '  at  every 
jump. 

"  After  him  houiKh'd  Percussion.  Without  an  instant 
of  hesitation  1  foUowed.  I  had  a  loni»in<>'  to  yot  on 
to  my  nude.  The  man  of  science  reached  the  ed<»e 
of  the  cam})  and  fell  fiat,  and  Percussion  struck  a 
Chinook  Indian  in  a  way  to  increase  his  vocabulary. 
The  last  jump  1   made  carried   me  to  the  back  of  my 


.  •    i 


'  4 


rji) 


DAYIJiill'l'    I, AM). 


mull',  and  1  ton*  down  tin-  trail  with  my  liccis  in  licr 
ilanlvs.  1  I't'aclicd  i\w  lianl<s  ol"  llic  Tlionipson  and 
wont  ill  at  a  jninp.  Mali  across  tin-  tlooil  I  heard  a 
i'lisihuh'  and  1  knew  tliat  IV'iiMission  had  at  last  stiiicU 
a    land  slide." 

"  Itat  I'oitaiiC,  licntlcnu'ii  !  "  called  ihe  conductor. 
"Twenty  minutes  to  seo  the  Lal<c'  ol'  the  Woods  and 
the  ureat  ilour  mill  at  Kewatin  !  " 


111 


.t  I, 


». 


(JIIAPTKU    VII. 

A    .I()IJ,Y    (AMI'    AT    IMSII     I.AKK. 

■■  N';iliiii'"s  piimc  I'.ivoi'iti's  \\r  ilic  I'.licnis, 
llij;li-J'<<l.  loiin'-livi'd.  sdciiililc  and  tnc  " 


EAVT.XS!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Pepiu-i- 
ell.  "  .1  ii(l<«'L',  look  at  those  prairie 
■  eliiekens  !  "  We  had  ste|t|>e(l  from 
the  ears  at  WiniiipCL;',  and  as  we 
struck  the  platt'orni  we  found  our- 
selves in  front  of  a  heaj)  of  <>r(Mise, 
—  a  hundred  in  nuud)er,  it  uiay  he,  —  hi<;',  fat  hirds^ 
such  as  make  man  thankful  he  was  horn  with  a  stom- 
ach. The  Judii'e  looked  at  the  hirds.  There  was  a 
wistful  look  ill  his  eyes.  His  lips  moved  as  if  the 
L»amey  flavor  were  already  in  his  mouth.  He  rolled 
his  eyes  toward  me  h)niL»'in<;ly,  and  (jueried, — 
"  Where  did  those  birds  come  from  ?  " 


iiii; 


I  '■" ' 


V22 


DAVLKillT   LAND. 


1  . 


i:' 


'■  ■>.' 


I  > 


■ '  ''I 


From  Soutlu'in   Manitoba,"  I  answoicd  pi'<)in])tly. 


Tlu'Y 


Alii  as 


thick 


V  as  <»rassiio|)]»('i's  tiu'i'e 


th 


Tlio   Man    From  New  Ilainpshiiv  had  hvvn   t'nmhHn<»- 
at  the  hii'ds,  as  if  cxaminini"'  tlicir  condition,  and    wlicn 


no 


lilted 


one 


lo  !  tUeiv  Avas  a  tan'  tied  to  its  I'oot,  and 


on   the  ta«>'  was  iK'Hciled,  '"  Colonel  (Joll'e,   New   Jlamp- 


snne 


One  of  my  birds,  by  «>'osIi  !  "  said  the  Colonel. 
Clean   from   yonr   farm,  eh.  Colonel?"   exclaimed 


Mr.  r 


epoere 


'PI 


"Certainly,"  retnrned  the  Colonel;  "flew  straight 
to  this  platform  and  dropped  dead.  Knew  1  was  to  be 
here.  1  '11  eat  him  to-ni<>lit,"  and  he  passed  the  bird 
in  under  his  arm  between   his  coat  and  his  vest. 


My 


conscience 


\ 


r>^^ 


My 
ith 


conscience 


I 


ii'i'oanec 


<>e,  as  II  wrestliiiii"  AVith  an  internal  enemy 


d 


Jnd 

iiods  have  burdened  me  with  a  conscience 


i    tl 


My  bird  !      My  bird  !  "    returned    the    New   Ham]) 


hire  man,  <>T()anini>-  in  imitation  of  the  Jiidii'c 


a 


■'  ?-> 


Tl 


je 


i»<)(ls  have  burdened  me  with  a  bird,"  and  he  started 
for  the  car. 

""  Halloo,  old  boy!"  screamed  a  voice,  and  a  Hat 
hand  smote  me  on  the  back.  "■  Do  you  remember  the 
turkeys  in   1  exas  : 

"■  Yes,"  1  answered,  as  1  wheeled,  "•  and  that  the 
best  snap  shot  in  the  New  York  Gun  Club,  Jack  Os- 
o-ood  by  name,  couhl  n't  hit  a  turkey  cobbler  at  fifty 
feet  as  he  went  throui>h  the  live  oaks."  And  we  shook 
hands,  laughed,  and  roared,  as  two  sportsmen  will  when 
they  suddenly  meet,  with  years  between  them  and  some 


hul 


icroiis 


appe 


iimii', 


\  It 


1    r 


f 


A  .lOLLY   CAMP    AT    Kl'SH    LAKK 


Il\*{ 


''.lack  Osgood,  —  Jiidoe  Doe, —  Mr.  lV[)})or('ll,"  I 
said,  hi'it'Hy  introducing'  tlicin.  "  \Vc  sliot  tnikcvs 
togctlicr  in  Texas,"   I   added. 

••  lie  shot  tlieni,  and  I  sliot  at  tlieni," 
replied  Jack.  "1  never  shall  i'oro(>t 
how  I  felt  when  the  first  i>(>l)l)ler  j^ot 
n[)  ahead  of  my  i^'un.  1  shook  till  my 
hones  rattled  ;  it  took  me  two  days  t«> 
soher  (h)wn  and  i;et  steady." 

"Did  you  shoot  those  hirds  there, 
j\lr.  Osgood  ?"  asked  tlu 


a 


Certainly  ;  every  one 


inswered  Jack. 


a 


1   (1 


ro 


four 


1 


jaiis. 


Tl 


lere  are  n 


told.      If    you  Avant    anv 


selves,  oentienien 


^>  h 


tk 


on 


<?■( 


)()d   hroilen 


a 


II 


eaven    Jias    n( 


}) 


ot    f 


exclaimed    the  .lud<»-e,   as 


s*  > 


or 


the  hreast  of  a  chicken,  ; 
one  he  had  so  well,  he  t( 

'•I'm  not  mean  enoui»h  to  look  a  iiift  horse  in  tl 
mouth,  Judoe,"   said    Mr.  ]\'|)i)vrell,  and    he   carelessly 
]»icked  u|)  f/ircc  chickens. 


le 


Wl 


lere  are  you  J»<)nii»',  . 


lack 


I 


(jueriec 


1. 


''  I  am  j»'oin<»'  to  Rush  Lake,  after  eanvas-l)a(;ks,"   re- 
plied ()s<»()od. 

"What  did   you  say,  ^^r.  ()so()()dV"   exckiimed  the 
oe.       "  What   was    the    iffniir    you    <»ave    to    the 


Jud 
duel 


IvS 


"  Canvas-hacks,  sir,"  answered  Jack. 


■4 


(t  '• 


i.  m  \ 


■,  If  VM 


124 


l»AYLKilIT  LAND. 


\i 


"Gentlemen,"  exelaiined  tlie  .Iiidoe,  "I  don't  know 
how  yon  feel,  bnt  I  'in  tired  of  travelini»".  This  steady 
rollini>"  shakes  np  a  man  of  my  a<>e  terril)ly.  If  jNIr. 
Osi»()0(l  will  permit,  I  will  <;•()  to  Ilnsh  Lake  with  him. 
1  feel  that  my  system  reqnires  several  days  of  absolnte 
rest. 

''  I  dare  not  leave  yon  to  t»()  alone,  Jnd<>e,"  ^-ried 
the  Man  from  New  Hann)sliire,  who  was  leanino-  from 
the  platform  of  the  ear,  listenini;'  to  what  the  Jndi;e 
said.  "  Yonr  eonseienee  !  think  of  your  eonseience. 
W/arc  did  ijau  (jtl  those  tiro  chic/i'cus  ^  ^^  and  he 
olared  at  the  .Ju(li>e  enviously. 

And  so  it  was  arranged  that  we  should  all  drop  olf 
at  Rush  Lake,  and  have  a  few  days  with  the  eanvas- 
haeks  and  the  white  })elieans,  and  Ave  started  out  luider 
the  guidance  of  Osgood  to  get  together  our  supplies. 

"  Ten  years  ago,"  remarked  j\Ir.  Pepperell,  "  there 
were  not  a  hundred  white  peo[)le  here.  At  the  forks 
of  the  river  was  Old  Fort  Garry,  a  Hudson  Bay  Com- 
])any's  post,  and  that  was  all.  To-day  there  is  a  city 
solidly  built  of  briek  and  stone,  with  a  po])ulati()n  of 
thirty  thousand.  It  is  necessary  to  see  such  changes 
with  our  eyes  to  appreciate  them." 

'"  It  h)()ks  to  me  as  if  it  had  a  future,"  said  the 
Judge  ;  "'  a  great  future." 

"  Decidedly,"  answered  Mr.  Pe])])erell.  "  This  is  to 
be  the  Prairie  City,  as  Vancouver  is  to  be  the  Coast 
City  of  the  country.  The  one  will  be  built  up  l)y  the 
inland  trade  ;  the  other  by  its  foreign  connnerce." 

"•  Wiuni[)eg  will  have  rivals  to  the  \vest,  Mr.  Pep- 
perell, and  don't  you  forget  it  in  your  figuring,"  ob- 
served the  Man  from  New  Hampshire. 


1  I 


Kff 


1*^1 


lO 


'«ij 


* 


i»' 


i.f 


I 


i;»  J 


iO 


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4. 


Hi 


1  ?  ■ 


.*'  I 


!  f 


•i  i 


SI 

<) 


!■( 
\V 
\\ 

h 

it 

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c; 

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c; 
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fi 
tl 

St 

s^ 
e^i 
tl 
e; 
t< 


f 

S' 


A    .lOLLY   CAMP   AT   lU'SlI   LAKE. 


J  27 


"  I  don't  f()i'<»('t  it,"  returned  Mr.  Pe])])erell,  prompt- 
ly. "  I  have  counted  on  it.  But  Winnipeo-  Jims  the 
start,  a  <>ood  stron<»'  start,  over  every  rival  to  the  west 
or  east.  Her  th()r()u<»lit'ares  are  eonstrueted  ;  her  svs- 
teni  of  li<»htin<;'  in  operation  ;  her  Mater-works  pro- 
vided ;  her  public  huildini»s  erected ;  her  ^vholesale  and 
retail  houses  estahlished,  and  her  trade  connections 
Avitli  the  East  and  the  South  made,  Colonel  Goll'e.  A 
tiiiancier  knows  the  value  of  such  a  start.  Winnijieu^ 
has  o'ot  her  «»Tip  on  the  countrv  round  about  her,  and 
it  will  take  an  eartlupiake  or  a  cyclone  to  loosen  it." 

And  so,  like  active-minded  Americans,  wliile  buvinir 
our  supplies  and  <;ettino'  together  our  outfit  for  tlie 
camp  at  Rush  Lake,  we  talked  of  the  future  of  Winni- 
pe<>'  and  figured  on  its  changes. 

If  there  are  prettier  bits  of  water  anywhere  than 
can  be  found  in  these  Western  prairies,  they  have  not 
been  discovered.  A  few  are  allvaline,  but  many  are 
fresh,  and  tlie  prairies  roll  down  in  billows  of  grass  to 
their  beaches  or  flatten  to  the  water  through  acres  of 
sedge.  Rush  Lake  is  well  named,  and  yet  it  is  not 
swampy  nor  sluggish  ;  for  miles  of  its  shore  line  are 
embanked,  and  its  waters  are  lively.  From  these  baidvs 
the  prairie  rolls  away  in  waves  of  fine  verdure,  and  tlie 
eye  sweeps  unimpeded  to  the  rim  of  the  horizon.  Our 
tent  was  pitched  on  a  bank  wliicli  brought  the  lake  in 
full  view,  and  over  it  the  air  moved  in  cool,  easy  cur- 
rents. It  was  an  ideal  camp  for  a  sportsman,  for  the 
free  water  was  speckled  with  ducks,  and  the  vast  reedy 
spaces  Avere  alive  with  their  movements. 

Canvas-backs,    mallards,    teal,    l)lac]v     ducks,    wood 


^ 


'i 


\i ' 


128 


DAYLKillT  LAND. 


11 


il-l' 


i. ; 


% 


(lucks,  t'lii'lew,  the  l)i«»'  plover,  und  those  wonders  of 
the  western  hind,  the  hu«»e  snow-white  pelicans,  wliose 
winos  have  the  stretch  of  a  white-headed  eagle's,  and 
wliich  float  on  the  water  with  the  slow,  stately  move- 
ment of  swans,  —  all  were  here,  and  in  nund)ers  heyond 
counting.  On  the  j)rairie  were  coyotes,  gray  wolves, 
and  antelopes.  What  more  could  a  sportsman  desire 
than  such  a  camp  and  such  game  ? 

"  Heavens  !  "  cried  the  Judge,  '^  was  there  ever  ruicli 
music  ?  "  and  he  tundded  olf  his  cot. 

"  A  chorus  for  the  saints,"  replied  the  New  Hamp- 
shire man,  as  he  emerged  from  the  folds  of  a  hull'alo 
rohe  in  which  he  had  hestowed  himself  near  the  tent- 
pins  ;  and  in  less  than  a  minute  we  were  all  standing 
outside  of  the  tent  completing  our  toilet,  the  Judge 
with  one  hoot  in  his  hand,  and  Mr.  Pei)perell  discreetly 
wrapped  in  a  blanket.     What  a  morning  ! 

The  sun  had  not  yet  risen.  One  gi'eat  star,  a  globe 
of  li(piid  limiinance,  hung  in  the  eas^tern  sky.  Along 
tlie  horizon's  edjje  ran  a  line  of  rose.  Above  it  were 
the  shifting  splendors  of  an  oriental  ruby.  The  west- 
ern heavens  were  still  blue  black.  I'he  prairie  grasses 
were  wet  with  dew,  and  every  drooping  point  sparkled 
like  a  gem.  The  air  was  motionless,  and  the  lake  from 
shore  to  shore  was  blanketed  with  white  fleece.  And 
out  of  this  fleece,  what  noises  came  !  The  flutter  of 
plumes  ;  the  spatter  of  playful  ducks  ;  the  pipe  of  cur- 
lew and  plover ;  the  whiz  of  passing  wings ;  the  voice 
of  pelican  ;  the  honk  of  geese  ;  the  low  soft  sound 
of  feathery  life,  seeking,  feeding,  greeting,  filled  all  the 
air  with  murmurous  musical  sounds. 


I 


■** 


A   .lOl.LY   CAMP   AT    lU'SlI    LAKK. 


Il2<) 


"Oh,  the  j./ory  of  tlio  world! — the  j;'loi'y  of  tiie 
world  !  "  cried  the  Judge,  as  he  «>"iized  at  the  beauty 
and  breathed  the  pure  air  in. 

"  Oh,  the  glory  of  the  dueks  !  —  the  glory  of  the 
ducks  !  "  said  the  Man  from  New  llanipshire,  as  he 
listened  to  the  sounds  hi  the  fog  and  thoui»ht  of  the 
broiled  grouse  that  he  ate  for  his  sui)[)er. 

"  Osgood,"  I  said,  "  did  a  sportsman  ever  hear 
sweeter  music  ?  " 

"  Never,"  he  responded,  "  unless  it  was  the  gobble 
of  a  wild  turkey  as  he  strutted  in  front  of  his  harem 
in    some   little  ulade  anion"'  the  ceihir   <»roves  of    the 

O  O  o 

Guadaloupe." 

"  Is  that  coll'ee  I  smell  ? "  (pieried  Mr.  Pepperell, 
suddenly. 

"  It  is,  by  the  powers  !  "  exclaimed  the  Judge,  and 
he  dove  through  the  door  of  the  tent  to  complete  his 
toilet. 

"  That  Judge  of  ours,"  said  the  Man  from  New 
Hampshire,  pointing  to  the  door  of  the  tent  as  he  dis- 
appeared,—  "  that  J udge  of  ours  is  a  good  deal  of  a 
poet,  but  he  has  a  well-balanced  mind  not \vitlistan ding." 

"Cook,"  called  the  Judge,  as  he  thrust  his  head  out 
of  the  tent  in  the  direction  of  the  kitchen.  "  Cook, 
how  soon  will  breakfast  be  ready?" 

"  In  a  few  niinits,  Marse  Jiulge,  in  a  few  niinits," 
responded  the  darkey. 

"  Julius  Caisar  Bismarck  !  "  thundered  the  Judi>e. 
"  At  what  liour,  I  say,  will  you  have  breakfast  ready  ?  " 

"  Fo'  de  Lawd,  ?tlarse  Judge,"  promptly  rei)lie(l  the 
ebony  cross  between  ancient  and  modern  greatness, 
"  how  d'  you  s'pose  dis  nigger  knows  ?  '* 


i! 


♦    '•'■' 

!!'• 

I              ' 

fi 

•  1 

h. 

! 

iu  IH 


WP' 


W-t' 


I,   t 


i' 


VM) 


1)AVLI(;HT    LAND. 


"Oh  Lord!"  jj^ioiint'd  the  .liidi'C,  and  his  voice; 
soun(hMl  us  if  it  caino  From  an  eni[)ty  celhir. 

"  Why  do  yon  move  so  caiofnlly  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Pc])- 
jxM'cll  ol'  the  Now  Ilaiupsliire  man,  as  ready  tor  break- 
fast we  went  ont  of  the  tent. 

'•  Sh  !  "  retnrned  the  Man  from  New  llampsliire. 
"If  i  (h)n't  move  earefnily  tlie  .Indge  will  liear  me 
rattU'." 

\V  ith  the  (hiwn  the  kdve  shore  near  ns  liad  l)een  em- 
hellished  with  a  most  romantie  arrival.  A  trihe  of  the 
Blaekfeet  Nation  had  eome  in  from  the  pkiins  and 
j»()ne  into  eam[).  Twenty-six  kiri>e,  1ine-h)okin<>'  Te- 
pees were  stretched  in  a  row  to  the  east  and  north  of 
onr  tent,  and  some  hnndred  and  fifty  Indian  ihen, 
women,  and  children  were  o'ronped  round  their  camp- 
kettles  or  moving'  ahout  at  their  work.  Here  and 
there  stood  knots  of  men  pictnres(]nely  drajjcd  in  their 
hiankets  of  liii>h  colors.  These  Indians  were  not  vaii'a- 
honds,  nor  sots  ;  they  ^vere  not  bloat^'d  with  liipior,  nor 
broken  down  with  disease;  they  were  not  dirty  or  re[)n]- 
sive  to  the  eye  ;  they  were  fine,  healtliy-h)okin<>-  people. 
The  men  were  tall  and  well  formed,  the  boys  spri<j;htly 
in  their  motions.  The  scpiaws  did  not  look  like  drudges 
or  human  beasts  of  burden,  but  like  women  of  bronze 
skin,  livino'  the  life  and  doin<i-  the  work  of  abori<»inals ; 
they  were  all  comfortably  clothed,  and  some  of  the 
<>irls  were  finely  formed  and  inimistakibly  handsome. 
There  was  not  a  half-breed  amon**'  them.  It  was  a 
camp  of  full-blooded  Indians  of  the  })lains. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  the  Judoe,  "  if  1  ever  lose  my 
appetite  I  shall  come  to  Rush  Lake." 


Hi 


1 


a 


>  !  • 


I 


} 


:n 


■  r  . 


4f 


the 

look 

i'k'V;i 

a 

I'lMii; 
stoo< 
iuii 


spc 


IK 


;i 


incii, 
ai>i'('( 
ncd  t 
luittc 
and  i 
-  1 

cans 

can  1 
''] 

Hani 
in  tl 
stai't( 
tlie  t 

V 

iin«»t 
has  1 
The 
hhus 
\w  n 


ii.ti 


i«ii»- 1,  ft 


A    .lOM.V    CAMP    A'l'    lilMI    I.AKK 


];;:{ 


'•  It'  (/'aiiadii  ever  loses  Rush  Lake,  tlicii,"  rctortrd 
(lie  Man  ironi  New  ilain[»sliir(',  *•  I  shall  know  wlu'it-  to 
look  for  it  ;"  and  lie  nicasinvd  with  his  oye  the  lionl 
elevation  of  the  .liidi;('. 


"  Uentleinen,"  exclaimed  the  . Indue,  iiiniMinu'  the 
remark  of  the  New  Hampshire  man,  '*  I  wish  it  under- 
stood that  this  is  a  eamp  of  sportsiuen,  and  not  pot- 
hunters. We  are  not  here  to  make  money,  hut  to 
s[)end  it  ;  not  to  supply  the  market,  hut  ourselves  with 
oame,  and  therefore  I  move  that  we  act  like  tine  s|KMts- 
nien,  and  lix  the  size  of  our  l»ai;s  each  day  l>v  mutual 
ai;reement.  Friends  should  he  rememhered,"  contin- 
ued the  .ludi;(',  "and  1  snnj;('st  that  each  man  he  per- 
mitted to  kill  a  certain  nund)er  of  ducks  for  himself, 
and  a  certain  nundier  to  send  to  his  friends." 

"  1  move,"  suj;L;('ste(l  Mr.  I'epperell,  '•  that  every 
man  he  permitted  to  shoot  twelve  ducks  and   two   peli- 


cans (lurniii'  tlie  wee 


th 


'k  f 


or  iiimsi 


If, 


a 


What  ahout  plover  and  curlew?"  (pu-ried   Osgood, 
They    don't    count,"   decided    the    .lu(l<;e.      ''  Voii 


can  l)a 


o-  all 


yon  can 


?» 


u 


Don't    count !  "    exclaimed     the    Man    from    New 


Hi 


nnpsluri 


a 


That  (h'cision  would  n't  stand   a  minute 


?5 


in  the  highest  court.  I  know  a  nian  in  Texas  who 
started  in  to  eat  lifty-six  curlew,  and  when  he  <;'ot  to 
the  forty-socond  he  dr()p])ed 

"Stop  rio'ht  there,  sir,"  said  the  .Indue,  shakini;'  his 
finder  at  the  Ccdonel.  "  Stop  rii>ht  there  !  The  conrt 
hasn't  forgotten  your  story  of  the  .Ia[)anese  screen. 
The  nmuher  l)ein<»'  settlL'd  that  each  man  may  shoot  for 
hhnself,  it  only  remains  for  us  to  decide  how  many 
he  may  he  aUowed  to  shoot  for  his  friends." 


;» 


lit,  ■ 


I    i 


F,»  '•! 


j:ji 


D.WLKillT   LAM). 


!  \ 


1 


ii 


I  f 


'\k 


!t  r 


T  would  \i\iii  tosiioot  ii«lo/(>ii  a  day  For  my  rii(>iid> 


ai 


I      Ml.     I*('|I|M'I(' 


Tlic   station   is  n't  a  milt!  awav 


and  wo  can  start  tlu'in  cast  tivcrv  cvcninu' 


M 


"That   will    d(»   lor  nic,"  atldcd    Osgood,  clu'crrid I v 
II'  it    u'cts  a  little  tlnll,  i  Ml  try  niv  hand  at  the  ante 


h 


th 


OIK'S  and  tnc  wolves 


a 


I 


Ml    not   a  shot-^un    man,  and   will    live   on    yoni 


)onntv 


I 


I'cmai 


k(>(l. 


(  iK'lican  (>a( 


h  (L 


IV,  aiK 


"It 

I    full 


yon  Ml  ii'ivc  my  Winchcstci 


swinii" 


at   tl 


ic  wolves   aiK 


coyotes,  1  shall  have  a  royal  time." 

"  Well,  sir,"  ([ueried  the  .Ind^e  ol'  the  Colonel, 
"  how  many  <l()  yon  want  For  your  Irieiids?" 

"1  liave  n't  an  enemy  in  the  State,"  said  the  Man 
from  New  IIam|>shire,  "  and  hy  the  last  census  "  — 

"Colonel  (iolVe ! "  interru|)ted  the  .lndi»'o,  sternly, 
"the  court  will  not  he  trilled  with.     How  many  do  yo 


uiy  do  y{ 


»u 


It  f 


want  Tor  your  rrien( 


t'l 


ds? 


>> 


''  Well,  as  1  was  sayin<»',"  said  the  Colonel,  "  I 
have  n't  an  cneniy  in  the  State  of  New  Hampshire,  and 
tnc  hist  census  fixed  the  ])0|)idati()n  at  three  hundred 
and  fifty  thousand.  Of  this  lunnher  only  seventy 
thousand  are  voters.  I  would  n't  i;'ive  a  duck  to  a 
Democrat  if  I  died  for  it,  so  we  can    '^  dk  olf  '  — 

"(yolonel  Goil'e,"  thundered  the  .1  ud<;e,  "  the  court 
does  not  |>ro])ose  to  sit  on  this  camp-stool  all  day,  and 
if  you  don't  come  (h)wn  "  — 

"  Oh,  very  well,  very  well,"  cric^l  the  Colonel,  "  it  is 
not  <;<)od  politics  to  leave  out  New  Hampshire  in  any 
close  election,  hut  let  her  i»<).  Outside  of  New  Hamp- 
shire 1  've  only  v>ue  friend.  I  picked  him  up  this 
morning- ;  he  's  herding-  the   Indian  ponies  out  there, 


1'    '  '  •> 


A   .M)l,l-V    (AMI'    AT    Ul  Nil    hAKI! 


i:r» 


shovel,  NvliiU'  tlie  pan  was  as  larj^c  a.;  an   iron   spoon. 


lliG 


DAYLKIHT   LAND. 


•  11 


!  i  <1 


U'. 


I'  I, 


T      i". 


! 


,     'i     i' 


It  wiis  a  venorahle  relic  ot'  f'oriuer  days  and  iiicii  ;  a 
imink'i'oiis  old  j»un,  if  you  had  shot  and  powder 
enough  to  charge  it  i)roperly,  and  you  could  ever  get 
it  oil* ;  hut  most  eccentric  and  unieliahle  in  its  hahits. 
The  gun  was  apparently  strong  as  ever,  and  as  to  its 
])arrel,  in  good  re})air,  hut  the  lock  was  lashed  to  its 
place  hy  stout  leather  thongs,  and  unless  the  powder 
was  coarse,  the  grains  would  leak  through  hetween  the 
l)arrel  and  the  i>an  into  the  recess  Avhere  the  sjjrings 
and  tund)ler  were  located.  The  spectacle  which  the 
Colonel  presented  when  he  stood  ecpiipped  for  the  day, 
—  a  hig  powder  horn  with  a  wooden  st(>pple  under  his 
elhow,  one  [)<)cket  sagging  with  shot,  the  otiu'r  stiilTed 
full  of  oakum  and  jjaper  for  his  wadding,  the  old  gun 
in  his  hand,  and  a  white  hell-crowned  hat  on  his  head, 
which  he  had  found  hy  the  same  luck  that  got  him 
his  gun,  was  of  so  funny  a  sort  that  the  camp  roared 
with  laughter.  But  the  Colonel  took  the  jokes  that  we 
fired  at  him  with  imperturl)ahle  gravity,  and  we  knew 
that  if  ever  he  did  get  that  ohl  gun  olf,  and  there 
were  any  ducks  in  the  kuulscape  Avithin  range,  the 
Indian  encampment  would  he  fed  full  to  feasting. 

In  less  than  an  Ikuu-  each  of  us  had  his  hag  except 
the  Colonel.  ''  For  some  unex})lainal)le  reason,"  as  he 
stated,  he  had  heen  ''  unahle  to  oet  the  old  tliino-  oit." 
But  he  assured  us  he  had  conhdence  in  his  j)i"ce,  and 
that  sooner  or  later  the  world  would  hear  from  him. 
There  was  not  one  of  us  that  did  not  admire  hoth  his 
courage  and  perseverance,  for  he  stood  hravely  up  he- 
hind  the  old  mortar  arxd  pulled  the  trigger  at  every 
duck  that  camo  hy. 


II  :■  t. 


A  JOLLY   CAM!'   AT    KL'SII   LAKE. 


i:;7 


^  Lord  !  "  said  tlio  Judoe,  "  wliat  would  heconie  of 
the  Colonel  if  the  old  tliiiio-  should  <••()  olf  ?  "  So  we 
patiently  trailed  in  the  rear  of  his  canoe  in  response  to 
the  Colonel's  exhortation,  '"  to  stand  by  the  institution 
of  the  fathers."  Advice  and  interrogations  were  rained 
upon  him.  The  .Jud<>e  wanted  to  know  "if  he  had 
loaded  every  time  he  sua})ped,  and  if  he  knew  how 
many  charges  there  were  in  the  piece  ?  "  Mr.  Pep- 
perell  incpiired  "  if  he  had  powder  enough  to  keej)  on 
i)rimino-  for  the  rest  of  the  dav  ?  "  And  Osgood  suu- 
oested  that  we  each  '"  take  our  turn  and  spell  him  at 
|)ullin<»'  the  trii»i>er." 

Meanwhile,  as  we  had  stopped  shootino-,  the  ducks 
had  settled  thicker  and  thicker,  till  tlie  water  was 
hkick  and  the  sedoe  was  full  of  feathers,  and  the  Colo- 
nel worked  away  at  the  ancient  hit  of  machinery  with 
redouhled  vi<»or.  lie  who  savs  that  the  ai>e  of  miracles 
has  passed  is  an  idiot,  for  that  old  i>un  fina.llv  went 
oil'  —  went  off  at  an  opjxntune  moment  too,  for  the 
canoe  was  wedded  into  the  sed<>e,  tlie  Colonel  well 
braced,  and  the  air  filled  with  ducks.  Granted  the  air 
black  with  birds  :  an  old  kind's  arm  charoed  with  a 
o'ill  or  more  of  coarse  shot,  and  a  man  from  New 
Hampshire  scpiintino-  orindy  over  the  breech-pin,  and 
there  could  be  but  one  result,  or  rather  three  results. 
The  o'un  jimiped  out  of  his  hands,  the  Colonel  sat  down 
in  the  boat  with  a  crash,  and  ducks  fell  by  the  dozen. 
It  was  a  monstrous  ba<»'  in  truth,  and  the  Coh)nel  took 
the  honors  of  the  day  and  week,  for  while  he  averaged 
less  than  five  shots  a  day,  still  the  totals  beat  every 
uun  in  the  crowd.     One  tliiuii'  is  sure,  the  Indians  who 


!:N 


:f>f 


.11    , 


'.         I 


1:58 


DAYLKiHT    LAND. 


II" 


('jiin])e(l  with  us  on  Rush  Luke  that  week  will  never 
foi'uet  that  old  flintlock  i>iin  or  the  iNIan  from  New 
Hampshire,  nor  shall  we  who  were  there  ever  forget 
the  sport  and  the  fun. 


i    •  '! 


I  : 


r- 


i'. 


^  ''^^^ 


'♦  '" 


i! 


A^      t 


CHAPTER   VIII. 


BIG    (JAMJ]. 

HAVE  luintod  every  kind  of  i»aine  l)e- 
tweeii  tlie  Soiitlieni  (iuU*  and  (rieat 
Slave  Lake,"  replied  Mr.  Osoood,  in 
arswer  to  an  interrogation  from  Colo- 
nel Goife,  as  we  were  sitting',  one  even- 
ing-, in  front  of  onr  tent  at  Ilnsli  Lake, 
"and  1  can  i»ive  you  as  much  or  as  little  information 
as  you  wish  on  the  subject  of  l)ii>'  or  little  i»ame,  hird 
or  beast.  T>venty  years  aj>'()  the  bio-  oame  of  the  con- 
tinent could  be  found  north  or  south  of  the  interna- 
tional line,  and  even  ten  years  })ack  good  huntiui;'  could 
be  had  in  several  of  our  States  aiul  Territories,  but 
to-day  he  who  wishes  to  find  game  of  the  larger  sort, 


Ilia;,' I 


''.    ) 


140 


DAYLKillT   LAND. 


inaiiy  kinds  and  plenty  of  it,  must  conio  over  on  this 
side  of  the  line  and  hunt  noitlnvaid." 

'^  What  do  you  mean  hy  northward,  Jack?  "  I  asked. 
"  How  far  north  have  you  hunted  ?  " 

"  Six  hundred  miles  at  least,  perhaps  eij^ht,"  he  an- 
swered.    '•  Last  sunnner  I  started  from  Calvary  with  a 


♦  ;  I 


il: 


eouu'ade,  and  fetched  a  trail  on  horseback  well  down 
into  the  oreat  ]\Iackenzie  Basin.  The  Mackenzie,  you 
know,  is  a  mighty  river,  biooev  than  the  Mississippi, 
they  say,  and  the  country  it  drains  is  an  empire  in  it- 
self." 

'^  That  is  a  long-  way  to  i>'o  for  a  hunt.  Jack,"  I  said, 
interru[)tino-  hhn. 

"  You  and  1  trailed  farther  than  tlhit  south  and 
west,"  he  retorted  pleasantly.  "  But  you  nuist  re- 
member, gentlemen,  that  frt)m  the  hour  you  leave  Cal- 


4\^ 


j 


>  !  tJ 


Urih 


ill 


ll 


'm 


m 


WHI  I  £     I  A,l.    [tLK 


Ill' 


'1^1  i  iki 


k  i 


I 


iUG   (iAMK. 


m;} 


oiii'V  vou  are  in  jiood  sixntiiiii'  coiinti'v.  We  liuiiuod 
tlio  foot-hills  from  tlu»  start,  and  we  had  bij^horn,  i»()ats, 
hear,  antelo[)es,  and  wolves  with  wliieh  to  amuse  our- 
selves. Then  you  must  iemeud)er  that  we  were  in  the 
saddle,  and  trailiiii;-  through  a  most  lovely  countrv, 
without  weariness  and  at  no  hurdensome  expense,  [)ush- 
inu'  up  into  a  strange  reiiion  known  only  to  the  Indians 
and  the  Hudson  JJay  Post  folk,  through  an  atmosphere 
pure  and  braein<»'  as  men  ever  rode  in.  1  assure  you 
that  had  I  not  fired  my  rifle  from  be^innini*'  to  <'n(l  of 
it,  that  two  months'  trail  would  have  been  most  enjoy- 
able." 

"■  What  is  the  eliaraeter  of  the  soil  and  elimate  in 
this  North  Land  of  yours,  Mr.  Os<»ood  ?  "  queried  the 
.)  u(li;e. 

''  The  soil  is  as  rieh  as  any  on  the  eontinent,"  an- 
swered Jaek,  "  and  the  climate  simply  perfect.  It  is 
milder  than  it  is  here,  or  even  in  Dakota  or  Minnesota. 
Wheat  can  be  sown  earlier  —  three  weeks  earlier,  I 
shouhl  thiidv  —  than  at  the  national  line.  The  days 
are  lon<»'er,  and  the  cereal  <>'rowths  i>et  the  benelit  of 
the  prolonged  solar  lii>ht ;  a  i^'reat  benefit,  1  can  assure 
you,  it  is  in  brin<>int»'  a  crop  alonq;  fast.  At  the  north- 
ern part  of  my  trail  I  could  read  a  newspaper  at  mid- 
niii'ht  without  the  aid  of  candle  or  moon.  It  is  Day- 
li<»lit  Land  up  there,  and  so  it  mii»ht,  in  truth  as  well 
as  in  poetry,  be  called." 

"  That  is  a  bea'^tiful  name,"  cried  the  Judj^e  enthu- 
siastically. "  A  beautiful  name  !  Daylis>ht  Land  !  That 
is  n't  much  like  the  popular  conception  of  Canada, 
Avhicli  j)ictures  it  as  the  home  of  Ice  and  of  Night.     I 


1 

i; 

1 . 

iin 

'I^     ■ 

^ 

u 

. 

y. 


I  ' 


'^-'i' 


144 


DAYLKIIIT    LAND. 


vciily  Ix'licvc  that  half  the  world  thinks  of  Cana(hi  as 
a  cold,  (U'solato  coimtiy  the  year  round." 

"  The  woild  knows  nothin*;'  ahont  Canada  as  a 
whole,"  ,'ac'k  i'e[)liud  warndy.  "  Nor  do  Canadians  in 
<>vneral  know  anythinj;'  of  tlioir  own  country.  They 
arc  not  travellers,  as  we  Yankees  are.     The  old  French 


li 


stock  were  oreat  wanderers  and  explorers,  but  their 
descendants  are  stay-at-homes.  The  old-thne  French 
(Canadians  Avent  everywhere.  The  «»Tandsire  was  a 
rot/f/f/ci/r  ;  his  descendauts  to-day  are  only  luibHonx. 
He  fed  his  sinews  on  the  uame  of  the  whole  continent. 
These  eat  pease  and  <»arlic  at  home.  The  fact  is  Can- 
ada knows  less  of  herself  than  she  did  a  century  and 
a  half  aii'o.  She  is  absolutely  en<>'a<>ed  in  rediscover- 
in<>'  hci'  own  geography.     The  same  tliinj>'  is  happening 


.! 


IJKi   GAMK. 


H.I 


in  Caiuida,  touclnn<»'  her  «»Teiit  rivers,  lakes,  and  fertile 
plains,  as  liai>|)ene(l  in  Italy  in  respect  to  Pompeii  and 
Herenlaneuni.  They  are  l)ein<»'  uncovered  and  l)roiii>lit 
to  tlie  li<»lit.  They  have  lain  huried  under  a  hui»'e  de- 
posit of  ignorance,  and  are  now  l)ein«>'  exhumed.  There 
are  a  dozen  American  sportsmen  1  could  mention  who 
know  more  ahout  Canada  than  the  Geo<j;raphical  De- 
partment at  Ottawa." 

"  Why,  Jack,"  1  exclaimed,  "  you  are  (piite  an  ora- 
tor. The  Canadian  «>()vernment  ou<»ht  to  put  you  on  a 
salary  to  write  their  advertishig'  literature  and  make 
innnigratiou  speeches." 

"  You  can  lau<»h  as  much  as  you  like,"  returned 
Jack  ^vith  good-natured  earnestness,  "  hut  you  know  I 
am  right,  for  you  know  as  much  of  this  great  country  as 
I  do,  and  perhai)s  more.  I  wish  our  countrymen  would 
learn  the  facts  about  this  huge  enii)ire  of  o[)portunity 
to  the  north  of  them,  or  that  the  Canadians  had  know- 
ledge of  it  themselves,  faith  in  it,  and  the  right  con- 
nections with  us.  Then  you  Avould  see  this  western 
land  jump  to  the  front  of  continental  observation." 

"  1  don't  see  where  the  unmigration  is  to  be  found  to 
people  this  vast  country,"  said  Colonel  Goll'e.  "  The 
United  States  have  thus  far  preempted  the  immigra- 
tion possibilities  of  the  world,  and  stand  intermediate 
between  the  great  western  movement  of  })opukition 
which  signalizes  our  age,  and  this  country,  and  I  can't 
see  how  this  Canada  of  the  west  and  northwest  is  ever 
to  be  peopled.  A  goodly  nund)er  of  English  and  Scotch 
are  already  here,  but  it  will  take  many  years  of  such 
slow  additions  to  peo})le  these  vast  areas  which  stretch 
west  and  north  from  this  spot." 


1|: 


t 

1^ 


Ui'> 


DAYLKill'l'    I. AND. 


a  . 


''  The  pcoplr  to  |K)|mlatt'  this  coimtrv,"  said  .lack, 
are  ('(Hiiin<;"  tVoiii  (neat  Britain,  (lie  north  of  Kiiropc, 
and  ]u'iiia|)s  tVoui  the  States.  Americans  as  wcii  as 
Kni'opcans  shonld  jiossess  this  hind.  'IMiis  countrv  is 
aj»Ticultural,  and  in  a  few  years  a  <»reat  a<»ricnltnral 
movement  from  the  States  northward  is  likely  to  take 


if 


'■4 


jtlace.  Our  tent  is  pitched  at  tlie  centre  of  the  wheat 
area  of  tlie  continent.  Five  hundred  miks  to  tlie  north 
and  as  far  to  the  south  from  where  we  sit,  and  a  thou- 
sand miles  east  and  west,  measure  what  I  call  the  <i^reat 
wheat  square  of  the  continent.  Here  is  pure  water,  a 
peii'ect  (dimate,  cheap  fuel,  and  a  soil  that  produces 
forty  hushels  of  prime  wheat  to  the  acre.  As  the  soil 
to  the  south  under  our  silly  system  of  agriculture  he- 
comes  exhausted,  as  it  soon  will  he,  and  the  average 
yield  per  acre  shrinks  more  and  more,  the  wheat  grow- 


tiiti: 


i. 


i-.l. 


IMC.   (lAMK. 


147 


ers  must  and  will  niovo  northward.  This  niovcnicnt  is 
sure  to  come.  It  is  one  of  thr  lixed  Facts  ot*  the  Fu- 
ture ;  it  is  1)0111  oF  an  aj»ricultural  necessity,  aiul  when 
it  l)e<»ins  to  move  it  will  move  in  with  a  rush.  A 
million  oF  American  wheat  Farmers  oni;ht  to  he  in  this 
country  inside  oF  ten  years,  and  I  helieve  that  within 
that  tune  |)0[)ulation  will  pour  in  and  spread  over  these 
Canadian  plains  like  a  tide." 

"Jack  Oso'ood,"  1  exclainu'd,  "you  are  the  same 
san<^uine  theorist  that  you  were  eii;ht  years  ai»().  You 
came  to  Texas  to  shoot  turkeys  For  a  nu)nth,  and  hcFore 
lialF  the  month  had  [)assed  you  houj^ht  twenty  thou- 
sand acres  of  land." 

"So  1  did,"  he  rejoined,  "and!  heo-  yon  to  renu'm- 
her  that  I  paid  one  dollar  and  twenty-Hve  cents  per 
acre,  and  that  1  sold  out  last  year,  as  you  know,  for 
eii>lit  dollars  and  fifty  cents  per  acre.  It  i)ays  to  he  a 
theorist  in  an  a<>'e  and  country  like  this." 

"  Mr.  ()so()od,"  said  the  Man  frcmi  New  riam|)shire, 
"  1  am  convinced  that  you  and  I  are  adapted  to  do 
husiness  as  partners.  If  you  can  select  twenty  thou- 
sand acres  anywhere  around  here  that  look  as  those 
twenty  thousand  you  houoht  in  Texas  did,  I  will  «;'() 
halves  with  you,  and  we  will  sttilie  out  a  city  near  the 
centre  of  the  section  at  once." 

"  Come,  c(mie,"  1  said  when  the  laujijliter  had  snh- 
sided,  "  have  done  with  this  enthusiastic  Forecast  and 
your  s])eculative  talk,  and  tell  :ne  ahout  the  hi^'  i»ame, 
as  you  promised  to  do  at  the  start.  How  far  north  did 
you  go,  Jack,  and  what  did  you  fiiul  in  the  way  of 
9" 


t': 


,1 


\l 


game 


;.!    I 

si 
Si  .1 


.  i  i 


{.     ;| 


ifv' 


IJiiiii  ill: 


MS 


DAYMCIir    I, AM). 


"  T  wont  as  Far  as  i\n>  (licat  Slave  liako.  Tlie  shores 
of  this  hik(f  artt  the  tiiv(»rite  hiiiiiit  of  the  musk  o\,  and 
1  wanted  to  oct  some  of  the  stran<i('-h)olunLi"  creatures. 
Y(Ui  ean  liiid  them  on  all  tlu^  np|)er  trihutiirles  of  the 
ISI.ieken/ie  lliver.  A  nnisk  ox  is  a  si/ahle  ^iime,  for  the 
males    \vei*;'h    four    or   live    hundred    pounds,   and    tin; 


lit 


(  • 


"(■■ 


&i 


femjilos  nearly  as  mueh  They  are  about  ei_i>lit  feet 
h)n«»'  and  four  hioli,  and  have  a  dark  and)er-eoh)red 
coat.  In  the  fall  of  the  year  tliey  j»tow  a  very  fine 
wool.  They  have  a  flat  frontal,  and  the  horns,  which 
are  very  lar«»e  at  the  base,  orow  out  of  the  top  of  the 
skull  close  to  each  other,  and  curve  downward  on  either 
side  of  the  head,  but  turn  sharply  upward  some  six 
inches  from  the  ends,  and  are  finely  pointed.  They  seem 
to  me  to  resemble  a  sheep  more  than  an  ox,  but  they  do 


ii'^'  f' 


PRONG    HORN   ANTELOPF.. 


(  ' 


? 


I  < ' 


BIG  GAME. 


151 


not  have  the  cry  of  a  sheep  or  ^oat,  l)ut  make  a  noise 
Uke  to  the  snort  of  a  walrus.  They  signal  danoer 
by  stamping'  like  a  buck,  or  by  striking  their  horns 
ao'ainst  the  horns  of  others  standin<>"  near.  Thev  are 
courageous,  and  hs>ht  savagely.  Even  bears  are  killed 
by  them.  The  calf  is  a  feeble  thing,  and  can't  follow 
the  mother  for  a  month  or  more  after  birth.  The 
mothers  hide  their  calves  very  cunningly,  and  i)r()tect 
them  with  the  utmost  affection.  They  feed  on  grasses, 
mosses,  and  browse,  and  their  flesh  tastes  very  like 
moose-meat  or  venison,  only  it  is  of  a  coarser  grain. 
They  are  shy,  and  keep  sentinels  well  out  from  the 
herd  when  feeding,  and  hence  it  is  good  sport  to  stalk 
them.  I  spent  a  week  hunting  them,  and  had  good 
success ;  but  I  had  .nore  enjoyment  in  watching  them 
and  studying  their  habits  than  in  killing  them,  for 
after  1  had  collected  a  few  specimen  skins  1  had  no 
motive  to  kill  farther." 

"•  That 's  right,"  said  the  Judge.  "  Boys  are  mur- 
derous chaps  with  the  gun,  but  when  a  man  has  shot  a 
few  years  he  begins  to  shoot  less  and  study  more,  and 
finds  more  pleasure  in  learning  than  in  killing.  A  true 
sportsman  becomes,  as  he  grows  in  years  and  skill,  more 
and  more  a  naturalist,  and  receives  more  pleasure  from 
the  living  knowledge  he  acquires  than  the  dead  game 
he  bags." 

"  The  caribou  are  very  plenty  in  the  north,"  re- 
sumed Jack.  "  There  are  two  varieties,  the  woodland 
and  the  barren-ground  caribou.  They  are  found  in 
large  herds  around  Athabaska  Lake  and  southward  of 
Hudson's  Bay  to  Lake  Superior.     I  need  not  describe 


1  ? 
1 


^t 


> ' 


Mf 


iii 


U; 


152 


DAYLKJIIT   LAND. 


tlieni  to  you,  for  you  have  all,  doubtless,  seen  them. 
In  summer  they  come  from  the  far  north,  and  feed 
around  James's  Bay.  The  caribou  are  good  game,  for 
it  takes  skill,  patience,  and  physical  endurance  to  stalk 
one  successfully.  When  he  finds  himself  hunted,  he 
travels   with  a   low  head,  his   antlers   well    back,  and 


;5  -'  ■ 


kee])s  his  body  clo.t!  lo  tiie  ground.  I  followed  one  on 
tlie  Nelson  River  four  days  before  I  captured  him,  and 
lie  came  near  bagging  me  instead  of  I  him,  for  I  only 
wounded  him,  and  he  charged  at  me  like  an  eleidiant. 
The  barren-ground  caribou  is  not  much  known,  I  fancy, 
among  the  sportsmen  of  the  States.  They  are  much 
smaller  than  the  woodland  species,  weighing  only  about 
one  hundred  pounds  when  dressed.  They  are  very 
plenty  in  the  Great  Slave  and  Athabaska  Lake  regi(  n. 
Small  as  they  are,  their  antlers  are  much  larger  than 


ll; 


BIG  GAME. 


153 


those  of  the  larj^er  si)ec'ies.  They  have  more  brunches 
on  them,  and  are  far  handsomer.  In  sunnuev  they  are 
a  reddish  brown,  but  in  winter  ahnost  snov/  white. 
The  skin  tans  finely,  becoming  very  soft  and  white, 
and  is  used  for  tents  and  oarments.  Their  Hesh  is 
excellent,  and  the  fat  on  the  rump  is  hij^hly  prized  as  a 
oreat  delicacy  by  the  Indians  and  French  r<Hi(i<ji-nrx. 
It  is  not  difficult  to  stalk  them,  as  they  are  not  shy 
as  is  the  larger  kind,  and  hence  it  is  not  much  sport 
to  hunt  them.  1  have  seen  a  hundred  or  more  in  a 
herd." 

"  Are  the  bulfalo  actually  gone,  Mr.  Osgood  ? " 
queried  the  .Judge. 

"  I  saw  three  within  fifty  miles  of  Calgary,  last 
year,"  Jack  answered.  "  I  did  not  kill  them,  of  course, 
I  dare  say  they  have  been  killed  since.  I  have  a  feel- 
ing that  a  few  might  yet  be  foiuid  by  searching  among 
the  foot-hills  northwest  of  us,  and  I  saw  a  living  trail 
last  summer  in  the  Peace  River  country,  but  the  bulfalo 
of  the  plains  is  practically  an  extinct  aninial.  There 
is  a  family  or  tril)e  of  buffalo,  known  as  the  wood  buf- 
falo, to  the  north  of  us,  however." 

"  I  never  heard  of  them  before,"  remarked  Mr. 
Pep])erell. 

"  Very  likely,"  said  Jack.  "  I  never  did  until  I 
heard  of  them  from  the  Indians  north  of  Edmonton 
last  year.  There  are  not  more  than  a  thousand  all 
told,  perha])s,  but  they  are  noble  animals,  and  the 
sportsman  that  ca])tures  one  has  a  trophy  of  which  he 
may  well  be  proud.  The  wood  buffalo  is  much  larger 
and  handsomer  than  his  brother  of  the  plains.     His 


•i 


y^  (i 


'M  •• 


% 


■i 


!!!:  :  t 


T=';ff-i£^"-iC?S»Cr,-.  > ;  -fc^:' 


J  54 


DAYLKIJIT    LAND. 


liair  is  tiiier,  and  his  i»roat  six;  niaki's  liiin  a  n()l)lt'r  ob- 
ject to  look  at.  He  lives  wlioUv  in  the  forest,  and  is 
very  \vil(l  and  hard  to  i«et  at.  lint  a  real  sportsman 
wonld  uladly  ride  a  thonsand  miles  to  liet  a  j»(>od  sliot 
at  one.  1  have  two  skins  at  Innue,  and  I  j)rize  thenj  as 
troplucs  oj'  the  chase  heyond  any  others  that  twenty 
years  of    luintinji-   all   over  the    continent   have  u'iven 

J? 

me. 


■.l,v,jv|l^-- 


,'0l 


*"•  Are  there  many  Rocky  Monntain  goats  hi  this 
Canadian  country?"  I  asked. 

'"  Plenty  of  them  everywhere  in  the  mountains,"  he 
answered.  "  South  of  the  national  line  they  are  not 
very  plenty,  but  as  you  travel  northward  they  become 
more  and  more  numerous.  You  will,  I  presume,  see 
them  from  the  car  window  as  you  ride  alono",  once  you 
get  into  the  mountain  section  to  the  west  of  us.  I  see 
they  have  been  rei)resented  as  very  shy  and  difficult  to 


E 


BIG   (iAMK. 


ir>/) 


stalk,  l)y  ;i  i)r()niinont  sportsman  of  tlio  States.  I  have 
not  found  this  to  bo  the  case  after  I  luid  studied  tlicir 
hal)its  anil  character  a  little.  The  lirst  thiui*-  to 
reniend)er  in  stalking-  a  white  ^oat  is  that  he  is  hy 
nature  a  most  curious  animal.  His  hump  of  iiKjuisi- 
tiveness  is  excessively  larj^e.  You  must  not  attem[»t 
to  stalk  him  too  much.  You  nuist  let  him  stalk  you. 
If  you  move  he  will  see  you,  and  away  he  goes  at  a 
hound  ;  hut  if  you  don't  move,  hut  remain  hidden  and 
exi)ose  something'  to  his  sight  that  he  does  not  under- 
stand, and  exercise  patience,  it  is  ten  to  one  that  in 
half  an  hour  you  have  drawn  him  within  range.  In- 
deed, the  true  rule  in  any  form  of  hunting'  is  to  move 
very  little  and  very  slowly,  or  not  at  all.  The  adage 
that  '  luck  comes  to  tin;  man  who  won't  go  after  it,'  is 
cs[)ecially  verified  in  stalking.  I  have  killed  more 
ganu^  hy  sitting  still  than  hy  tramping  or  riding  ;  tter 
it. 

"  In  the  second  place  I  made  a  very  interesting  dis- 
covery, and  I  made  it  hy  accident,  one  day.  I  was 
stalking  a  fine  old  hilly  goat  in  the  mountains  north  of 
Bow  lliver  with  a  comrade,  a  green  man,  \vho  did  n't 
seem  to  have  an  eye  in  his  head.  The  game  was  ahove 
me,  half  a  mile  away,  perhaps,  and  I  was  moving  up 
with  the  utmost  circumspection,  when  to  my  dismay 
I  saw  my  comrade  suddenly  emerge  from  the  scruh 
five  hundred  feet  ahove  the  old  fellow,  and  walk  care- 
lessly along  in  full  view.  I  was  not  surprised  that  my 
friend  did  not  see  tlie  goat,  for  I  douht  if  he  would 
have  seen  an  elephant  twenty  rods  in  front  of  him,  hut 
I  was  surprised   that  the  goat  did  n't  see  him,  for  he 


r 


:tfi 


.::< 


ir)0 


DAYLIGHT  LAND. 


If 


was  a  foxy  old  chap,  and  kept  his  eyes  open.  And 
then  it  was  that  I  su(Ulenly  made  a  discovery,  —  a  <lis- 
covery  which  made  goat-stalking'  easy  to  me  ai'tei  that, 
—  which  was  that  a  goat  never  expects  danger  from 
ahove,  but  always  from  below,  and  that  to  stalk  a 
mountain  where  goats  are,  successfully,  the  stalker 
should  work  downward  from  the  toj),  and  not  upward 
from  the  base. 

"  It  is  just  the  same  with  big  horn  sheep,  as  they  are 
called.  They  should  be  stalked  from  above.  They 
have  a  wide  range,  for  I  have  shot  them  in  Southern 
California  and  in  the  Great  Bear  Lake  region.  They 
are  not  confined  to  the  mountains,  as  is  generally  sup- 
posed. 1  have  found  them  in  flat  country,  and  thick 
too.  They  live  in  Sonora,  in  tracts  absolutely  arid ; 
at  least  I  never  could  find  any  water  there.  A  ram 
weighs,  when  fully  grown  and  well  conditioned,  about 
three  hundred  and  fifty  pounds.  They  grow  a  very 
fine  wool  in  winter,  and  the  females  have  horns  like  a 
common  goat.  The  old  idea  that  they  alight  on  their 
big  horns  when  compelled  to  jump  from  a  cliff  is  all 
nonsense.  It  is  like  the  popular  belief  that  prairie 
dogs,  owls,  and  rattlesnakes  live  in  one  burrow  harmo- 
niously. There  is  no  such  '  happy  family '  arrange- 
ment among  them,  I  can  assure  you.  The  snakes  eat 
the  eggs  of  the  owls,  the  owls  eat  the  snakes,  and  the 
prairie  dogs  eat  the  oavI  chicks  at  every  opportunity. 
A  good  many  men  with  big-sounding  titles  would  be 
much  better  naturalists  if  they  would  become  practical 
si)ortsmen  and  trailers  for  a  few  years." 

"  Thai:  's  my   idea,   Mr.   Osgood,"   said   the  Judge, 


in 

t  5,1! 


l'' 


ROCKY    MOUN'Airj     SHEEP. 


If 


jli 


hW,    (iAMK. 


jr><) 


with  stionj*-  emphasis.  "  If  I  liad  u  hoy  uiul  I  wantLMl 
to  make  a  true  naturalist  of  him,  1  would  huy  him  a 
sportsman's  outfit  and  «»ive  him  to  you  for  five  years  to 
edueate." 

"  Well,  1  eould  teach  Inm  a  <»()od  many  valuahle 
thin<»s,  1  don't  doubt,  or  any  other  true  sjiortsman  eouhl 
who  has  trailed  the  eontinent  as  widely  as  1  have,"  .lack 
responded.  "  For  he  wouhl  see  not  only  its  physical 
oeography  and  its  old  races,  now  almost  extinct,  hut  I'W 
its  vegetable  and  arboreal  growths,  and  above  all  learn 
how  to  use  his  eyes  and  his  ears  and  his  reasonini;-  fac- 
ulties more  sharply  and  carefully  than  he  could  in  the 
recitation  room  of  a  collciic.  Mr.  Murrav  aiul  1  were 
graduated  from  Yale,  and  we  renuMuher  our  Alma  Mater 
with  scholarly  gratitude,  but  the  Great  University  of 
Men  and  Things,  as  represented  by  our  studentship  of 
the  continent,  has  given  us  a  more  valuable  knowledge 
than  our  study  of  books  ever  did." 

"  Never  mind  that  now,  Jack,"  1  said  ;  "  you  and  I 
can't  graduate  from  the  big  Outdoor  University  until 
we  have  saddled  across  the  Mackenzie  Basin  and  boated 
down  its  current  a  thousand  miles,  or  two  thousand,  for 
that  matter." 

"  1  will  do  that  with  you  any  sunnner."  he  said. 
"•  Three  months  will  be  all  the  time  we  need,  and  from 
the  day  we  leave  Calgary  till  our  return  we  shall  be  in 
the  best  hunting  region  of  the  continent  —  the  section 
where  big  game  in  abundance  and  all  its  vaiieties,  ex- 
cepting  the  jdain  buffalo,  can  now  be  found.  All 
through  this  area  north  of  us  the  wa])iti,  or  l)ig  elk, 
are  found  jdentifully,  both  aumng  the  foot-hills  and  in 


V,      t. 


Wi-'f 


■.  4 


-;«ff::r.-i-^-Xv,  <  I 


'I' 


-U\) 


J  GO 


DAYLKilir   LAND. 


the  woody  ('liiun)s  and  liinlxT  wliicli  patcli  tlic  [»lains  ol' 
tlio  ('*)untr\  luMc  ami  tluMi.  Tlic  \\aj)iti  aw  noMc 
oainc,  and  tlic  stalkiiii;'  of  them  a   most   manlv  recrea- 


tion. 


As  to  j»rizzlies,   1   iicmt  luiiit   tliem.      I   do  not 


admit  tli.it  a  spoitsmaii  lias  sncii  a  motivi;  in  liis  spoit- 
ini«'  adventures  as  to  justify  liini  in  riskini;'  liis  lite,  as 
he  must  do  in  stalkin^'  tor  <;ri//iies.  Mr.  Miiiiay  saw 
iiic  run  from  a  i»rizzly  once,  and  I  am  confident  tliat  he 
never  saw  a  man  of  my  inelies  malce  hetter  tnnt;.  I 
have  Ivilie  1  two,  l)ut  in  hotii  instances  I  was  so  placed 
tliat  I  could  n't  run,  and  had  to  Idll  or  i»('t  killed,  so  1 
stood  stoutly  in  for  the  chances,  and  won.  'JMiere  are 
two  animals  I  never  seek,  and  always  shun  if  1  can  :  the 
-»riz/ly  f)ear  and  the  panther.  The  latter  is  the  kinj;  of 
the  American  forest  and  motintains.  lie  is  the  oiily 
heast  tlu^  <>rizzly  fears.  The  lithe  cat  is  more  than 
a  match  for  tiu'  juonstrous  bear.  The  Indians  will 
tell  vou  that  th"y  have  found  miny  grizzlies  that  were 
certainly  killed  hy  panthers,  but  no  one  has  ever 
seen  the  body  of  a  panther  that  was  killed  by  a  «>rizzly 
or  any  other  animal.  The  panther  is  kin<»'  of  tl 
woods. 

'"  INIoose  are  numerous  in   the  Peace   River  country, 
amonji"  the   mountains  and    on    the    west  side    of  the 

)untains.      It  has  been  said  that  no  white  man   can 


le 


UK 


unit  a  moose  as  well  as  an 


Ind 


lan. 


A 


s  a  ri 


de  tl 


le  say 


ini>"  holds  i»()od.  To  it  I  have  known  a  few  exce])tions, 
but  only  a  few.  The  influence  of  heredity  is  in  the 
Indian's  favor.  His  eyesioht  is  a  derived  faculty.  It  is 
a  birthmark.  The  Indian's  oye  has  ancestors  back  of 
it.      A   thousand  years  of  practiced,   develoi)ed  vision 


[i 


I.! 


•1    » 
-I.  \ 


THE    GRIZZLY    BEAR. 


!> 


.IT:;, 


iH 


f«^ 


W 


1. 1 


r;  .  I 


'  t 


li 


il^ 


^i^ 


IW(i   (iAMi;. 


IGii 


is  concent liitrd,  ,\iu\  peers  Ironi  under  liis  Inows.  'J'lie 
alM>ri*;iniil  eye  is  the  l>est  in  tiie  world.  It  is  litcndlv 
inici()sc(»|>ic.  In  nioose-stiilkin;;  tliis  cunnlH.  The 
stiillvcr  wiio  can  stall;  without  noise,  and  whose  eve  is 
as  «»()od  or  hettcr  than  tlu;  moose's,  ^c-ts  him  every 
time.     Tlie  eye  wins  in  moose-hunt  in;;-. 

"  Antelopes  are   not  j;am(.'.      Jhey  are  too  pretty  to 


^ii;ii!l 


hhyi] 


1" 


ih      i' 


shoot,  and  too  simph'.  Their  curiosity  is  so  enormous 
that  it  (h)minates  them.  It  ])luces  them  entirely  at  tlu^ 
mercy  <>t  the  spoitsmun,  and  hence  every  true  sports- 
man spares  the  h)vely  creatures,  unless  ahsolutely  c(mi- 
pelled  to  kill  to  a]>pease  his  hunger.  ]}ut  the  hi<»-  j^ray 
wolf  is  leoitimate  n'anu',  and  the  i>reat,  <»aunt,  hulkiui;' 
brute  )nakes  a  ^ood  tar<>et ;  and  his  pelt  is  not  to  be  de- 
spised, for  when  full  furred  it  looks  well,  and  a  dozen 


•H 

i 

1G4 


DAYLKillT  LAND. 


iilir 


of  them  make  a  warm  robe,  or  overcoat  even.  These 
wolves  are  everywhere  to  the  north  of  us,  and  often 
make  <><)0(l  sport  as  you  trail  onward. 

"  The  reason  why  the  great  area  north  of  us  is  to  be 
eonunended  to  the  American  sp(;vtsman,"  said  Jack  in 
conclusion,  "  is  because  it  is  the  i-vesent  hcmie  of  the 
bi<:'  iiame  of  the  continent,  and  is  accessible.  The 
rails  bring-  you  to  your  saddle,  and  the  saddle  takvs 
you  to  the  end  of  your  trail.  And  after  my  way  of 
thinking  there  is  no  method  of  locomotion  so  healthy, 
so  stimulating,  and  so  thoroughly  enjoyable,  as  you 
have  with  a  good,  tough,  easy-gaited,  well-trained  l)ony 
under  you,  trailing  over  the  great  plains.  Pushing 
down  toward  the  north  from  Calgary  you  have  the 
})rairie  land  to  the  east  and  the  Kooky  JMountains  to 
the  \vest  in  full  view  ;  grasses  and  flowers,  running 
streams  and  groves  of  trees,  pure  air  and  lovely  cmuij) 
grounds ;  a  climate  of  even  temperature,  long',  linger- 
ing twilights  and  early  dawns,  and  th\t  most  delightful 
of  all  sensations  to  a  trailer,  —  the  feeling  that  you 
are  visitini>'  an  unknown  section  without  danger  or 
excessive  toil,  and  in  which  game  is  abundant.  Even 
if  you  cared  nothing  for  game,  and  were  only  seeking 
a  glorious  outing,  1  can  imagine  no  excursion  likely  to 
yield  more  health  or  j)leasur(^  to  a  l)arty  of  refined  and 
intelligent  lovers  of  the  outdoor  Avorld  and  life  than 
one  pushed  down  toward  the  north  into  the  Peace  River 
country  from  Calgary,  keeping  the  snowy  sununits  of 
the  Rocky  Mountains  in  sight  on  the  left  as  you  jour- 
ney along.  Granted  a  good-sized  '  prairie  schooner,'  a 
good   cook,  a  good  teamster,  and  a  good  party,  and 


BIG   GAME. 


105 


•I  I 


aftor  my  way  of  thinking-  you  liuve  all  the  conditions 
of  a  good  thne." 

"  So  say  I,"  cried  the  Judge,  as  he  rose  to  his  feet 
and  extracted  a  small  package  from  his  coat  pocket, 
"  and  I  wish  we  hoys  could  all  start  on  such  a  journey  to- 
morrow. But  one  thing,  Colonel  Goll'e,  you  could  not 
do.  The  court  would  not  allow  it ;  you  should  never 
he  permitted  to  take  that  old  cond>ination  musket  of 
vours  alonji'.  It  is  nnu'e  dani>erous  than  a  '  sui»ar 
trust,'  "  and  the  Judge  proceeded  to  o})en  the  package 
in  his  hand,  which  proved  to  contain  nothing  hut  small 
ohlong  pieces  of  pastehoard  with  grotestpie  pictures 
upon  them. 

"  Judjie  John  Doe,  what  are  those  thiims  you  have 
in  your  hands?"  exckiimed  the  Colonel,  in  a  seven; 
voice.  "  They  look  to  me  like  a  ])agan  cryptogram,  and 
if  Mr.  Ignatius  Dcmnelly  gets  nold  of  you  "  — 

"  That  will  do,"  interrui)ted  the  Judge  coolly,  as  he 
hegan  to  nu)ve  his  fingers  up  and  down  over  tlie  pack- 
age in  a  manner  to  make  the  slips  of  paper  come  and 
go  in  a  strange  fashion,  "  that  will  do.  Colonel  Goife," 
he  added  as  he  prej)ared  to  sit  down  on  his  camp-stool. 


lese  are  car'.ts,  su*. 


spite  of 


Th 


lis  IS  a  iioKcr  pack,   and  in 


your  innocence  i  ])ro])ose 


I 


1' 
that 


•k 


d 


on  aiK 


11 


SllOU 


Id 


Have  a  i>ame 


a 


Sit  d 


own, 


Jud 


ge, 


aid   the    Colonel   kindly,  as  he 


moved  the  Judii'e's  stool  a  little  ch)ser  to  him. 

"  Thank  you,  Coh)nel,"  rei)licd  the  Jiulge,  in  ;i  molli- 
fied voice,  eyidently  touched  hy  the  Colonel's  courtesy. 


a 


I  will  sit  down,"  and  he  did  —  on  the  i>rass  ! 


•\ 


^ 


!()() 


DAYLKillT    LANi). 


"  Von  viJJffinf"  screamed  the  Jiuloe,  and  jumi)iiio- 
to  his  feet  he  grabbed  the  camp-stool  and  pursued  the 
Man  from  New  Hampsliire  around  the  corner  of  tlie 
tent,  folhmed  by  our  voHeyin<^  hiu^^hter,  wliih*  even 
tlie  Indians  standing  around  grinned  broadly. 


I    '!*!, 


B< 


/• 


i 


»-i- 


■r^^rr^%-:- 


•!f' 


CHAPTER  IX. 


A    STKAN(;E    MIDNKMIT    lilDK. 


Is  there  not 
A  tonpuo  in  every  star,  that  talks  willi  man, 
And  wooes  him  to  he  wise  '.'     Nor  wooes  in  vain. 
This  (le.ad  o£  miihii^ht  is  the  noon  ot"  thoui;lit, 
And  wisdom  mounts  her  zenith  with  tlie  stars. 


.  ■  i 


•  '1  ■ ' 

1 


iH 


i  n\ 


^'^ 


RIDE,  —  and  such  a  ride  as  no  ancient 
ever  took,  although  he  were  a  <;()d ; 
a  ride  upon  a  steed  without  feet  or 
winj^s,  and  yet  a  steed  which  swept 
us  throu<»h  sunlit  space  and  starht 
gloom  faster  than  hoof  of  speed  or 
Hight  of  wing.  To  the  south,  the  prairie  land  stretched 
green  and  fragrant  with  sunnner  growth  and  hlooni  to 
the  far  southern  Gulf.  To  the  north,  tlie  same  lovely 
level  sw^ept  to  the  lower  edge  of  the  great  Mackenzie 
hasin,  —  that  far  river  of  the  north  of  wliich  few  know 
but  little,  and  most  know  notliiug.  Its  length,  longer 
than  the  Mississippi's;  its  climate,  although  ujion  the 
edge  and  within  the  rim  of  tlie  Arctic  circle,  still 
warmer  than  Dakota's ;   its  plains,  within   whose  vast 


h-  :i ' 


ft .      .      . 


108 


DAVLKillT   LAM). 


>  1 1 


boiiiidai'ii'S  Eastern  States  and  Provinces  inii;lit  l)e 
])la('e(i  and  lost  ;  tlie  n'rowtli  of  its  rich  soils,  harlev, 
wheat,  peas,  and  all  life- Feed ini;-  vei;etal)les,  tonctliei- 
with  those  hardy  flowers  which  ^raco  onr  Northern 
tables:  these  and  other  marvels  horn  of  isothermal 
lines  which,  cnrvini;'  hither  and  yon,  laui»h  at  lines  of 
latitnde,  —  are  not  these  things  scolled  at  hy  the 
stay-at-homes  as  myths  and  idle  tales?  Why,  then, 
tell  of  the  «;reat  possibilities  for  healthy  men  and 
lia[>|)y  homes  Ivino-  far  to  the  north  of  ])resent  settle- 
ments; of  millions  on  millions  of  acres  that  only  wait 
for  the  ])loni;h  and  the  seed,  the  sower's  hand  and 
the  harvester's  sickle,  to  yield  the  hnnory  world  the 
hread  it  needs,  if  it  will  not  helieve  the  trnth  ?  Yet 
the  world  will  read  th;'  ]>oetry  of  this  far-stretchini»' 
land,  and,  readini>'  it,  will  hy  and  hy  come  to  the  know- 
led^'e  of  its  economic  facts,  —  perhaps. 

To  Lhe  sonth,then,  the  j)lains  stretched  to  the  Gulf  ; 
to  the  north,  half  as  far.  To  the  east,  the  i»Teat  lawn 
extended  nii»h  three  hundred  lea<>iu's.  To  the  west, 
in  the  i;loiv  of  sunset,  its  sa[)i)hire  splendors  sjuead 
over  the  fixed  hlue  of  heaven  and  the  lloatini;'  fleece  of 
clouds,  arose  the  harrier  of  a  ^reat  mountain  wall  which 
readied  to  the  south  and  north  as  far  as  eye  miii'ht  see. 
Never  all  mv  iournevini>s  had  1  seen  such  a  siuht. 
The  n  Jiills,  in  the  distance  and  ii'atherinii'  u'loom, 
were  i!  >  tened  out  of  view,  and  the  i;reen  ])rairie  land 
sprea<l  to  the  verv  foot  of  that  majestic  wall,  as  level  as 
a  floor.  At  the  far  ed^'e  of  this  extended  emerald 
field,  the  monstrous  ran^'c,  its  hither  side  (larkeiu'd 
with  firs  and  evening's  gloom,  rose  in  might  and  ma- 


I  < 


»  .■* 


'  1 


<'  I 


fit^\' 


I  i 


•  •  'I* 


'/  ■  I 


1*  ^ 


tit. 


iril 


it 


I J 


CANON    OF   THE    THOMPSON. 


iji^fini; 


<  ■  'J 


I 


A    STKAN(;K   MIDXKJUT    I{I1)K. 


171 


jesty.  It  was  as  if  I  liud  conic  at  last  to  tlic  very  c(l«»e 
of  the  world,  which  God  had  fenced  and  hanicaded, 
fixin<>-  with  almighty  power  the  limit  of  man's  wander- 
in^'  and  discoveries. 

Toward  this  monstrous  harricade,  this  base  oi'  <»;loom 
that  stretched  far  as  the  eye  mi«>ht  see  to  the  north  and 
south,  we  drove  in  silence.  Behind  this  wall  the  red 
sun  slowly  sank.  I  saw  its  (|uiverin<»'  orb  of  flame  rest 
on  a  peak  of  snow  that  at  its  touch  kindled  to  the 
l)rii»htness  of  a  burnin<>'  star.  On  either  hand  a  hun- 
dred other  peaks  flashed  like  newly  lighted  beacons. 
Is  it  for  warnino-  or  for  guidance,  I  cpu'ried  to  myself, 
—  for  the  weird  siolit  stirred  my  ima«»ination  unwont- 
ediv,  —  that  those  hundred  beacon  fires,  stretcliini»-  in 
front  of  me  on  either  hand  a  hundred  miles,  are  kindled 
hi<>h  in  heaven  ? 

Thus,  then,  was  I  hurried  onward  fast  as  set  winp^s 
might  carry  me,  with  my  gaze  on  the  ])eaks,  the  fading* 
fire  in  the  sky,  and  the  growing  gloom.  Slowly  the 
crimson  faded ;  slowly  the  sapphire  colors  lost  their 
splendors ;  slowly  the  orange  lights  were  blanched,  and 
the  warm  tones  that  tilled  the  heavens  chilled  into 
gray,  and  then  in  the  far  distance  my  eye  saw  only  a 
blue  sky  pointed  here  and  there  with  starry  fire,  and 
between  it  and  me,  sharply  edged,  cleanly  cut.  strongly 
defined,  stood  forth  domes  of  snow  and  pinnacles  of 
ice. 

Many  sights  of  splendor  have  I  seen  in  wandering 
by  day  and  night  ;  many  pictures  such  as  man's  hand 
could  never  paint  have  I  gazed  at,  both  at  noontide  and 
at  midnight,  when  for  my  entertainment,  as  it  seemetl, 


i 

tt 

>     t 

i.  ifl 

.1 

ni!l 

m 

172 


DAYLKIHT  LAND. 


—  for  bcliio-  there  Jilono  T  only  smav,  —  Nature  kindlv 
sliifted  I'' .  etelied  or  painted  scrolls.  Many  weird 
si«»lits  lui.'.  I  j»azed  at  Hoatinj;-  on  northern  waters  in 
the  ni<;ht  time,  when  all  the  woods  were  silent  with  lo- 
cal stillness,  and  round  the  Pok',  hy  hands  unnamed  hy 
science,  unknown  to  superstition  even,  were  lij»hted  the 
mystic  fires  which  illuminate  with  awful  and  shiftino- 
sj)lendors  the  end  of  th('  world.  But  never  in  wander- 
ing" hy  day  i  n'  ,  i,  oh  plain  or  mountain  slope,  or 
surface  of  for*  .  i.tk'  ;,  have  my  eyes  heheld  a  spectacle 
so  strange  and  urtlii  or  an  exhihition  so  maaniii- 
cent,  as  1  saw,  gazing  westward  through  the  gloom  at 
the  sunnnits  of  the  Kocky  Mountains,  with  the  world 
around  me  darkened  into  gloaming  and  the  dead  sun- 
set lyhio-  on  the  hier  of  Nii»ht  heyond.  Between  the 
dark  earth  and  the  hlue  sky,  the  hhick  Hatness  and  tlie 
star-lighted  dome,  the  whiteness  of  the  })eaks  drew  a  line 
of  startling  eil'ects  from  north  to  south,  held  in  mys- 
terious sus])ensi()n  hetween  earth  and  heaven  us  far  us 
eye  might  range. 

Steadily  we  rolled  onward.  Behind,  the  roar  and 
rund)!e  of  the  train  ;  ahead,  the  stillness  of  nature's  un- 
disturhed  repose  when  man  sleeps  and  animals  walk 
velvet-footed.  The  sun  had  set.  The  moon  had  not 
risen  ;  yet  it  was  not  dark.  A  strange  half-light  filled 
the  world.  The  train  I  could  not  see,  for  I  was  riding- 
ahead  of  it.  The  i)Ower  that  drew  it,  Avliose  mighty 
throhhings  I  could  feel  as  though  within  me,  pushed 
me  through  the  air  as  an  arrow  is  pushed  from  the  how. 
I  was  beino'  whirled  alono-  as  a  bird  is  whirled  when 
it   rides   the    tem])est.      The  dusk   was   fragrant   with 


A   STHAN(;i-:    MIDXKJIT    KIDK 


nii 


U11S(»(M1 


1)1 


ooin. 


Tl 


10    ('ill 


th   ()(1( 


ors  were  blown   into  my 


nostrils.     I  hreatlied  the  str()ii<«'  life  of  the  worhl,  and 
felt  its  streii«»'tli  eoiue  to  nie  as  I   hreatlied. 

Siuhleiily,  on  my  left,  1  saw  a  snowy  owl  sailing' 
with  set  wiiiiis  westward.  Was  it  the  «»host  of  the  dav 
that  had  just  died  that  had  hecn  foreed  at  last  to  leave 
the  world  it  h)ved  so  well  ?  The  sftectral  vision  raced 
us  a  raee  and  won,  and  far  ahead  I  saw  its  snowy 
pluiiia<»e  fade  and  lose  itself  in  the  distanee.  A  tloek 
of  dueks,  startled  from  the  sedges  of  the  lake  we 
skirted,  whirred  upward  out  of  si<»lit.  I  thou«»ht  it 
stranire  that  I  couhl  hear  their  feathered  stn    .> 


\v 


a  way. 
hlazed  lik 


f; 


J»lit 


A   eoyote  spran<»'  upo^i   ti.  ■  tiaek, 


Above  me  the  great  round  eye  of  th    ne;?      u 
I  sun. 

stood  for  a  moment  <^azin«»-  at  us,  its  eyes  tw(;  'taiiiond 
sparks,  its  dirty  j^'ray  eoat  «»'leamini»'  whit  and  beauti- 
ful as  silk,  then  slunk  away,  and  the  <;loii.iiin<»'  hid  it 
from  si<>"ht.  Suddenly,  above  us  and  ahead,  a  Hock 
of  mi«>hty  birds  swept  into  view,  —  their  bodies  wliite, 
their  le<»'s  half  the  length  of  a  man's,  their  h)iii»-,  broad 
bills  crooked  like  a  spoon,  yellow  as  j^old,  their  wii": 
shadiiii*"  from  their  white  bodies  into  raven  blac  , 
stretched  wider  than  a  man's  hands  could  reach.  They 
were  pelicans,  those  mii»'hty  birds  that  float  upon  the 
])rairie  Ldves  as  lari»e  as  swans,  whose  vans  beat  the  air 
with  stro):es  stron«>er  than  an  eagle's.  One  such  bird 
might  make  a  trophy  for  a  hunter  more  noble  than 
horns  of  elk  or  head  of  moose.  They  «i'ave  no  crv,  lait 
circled  like  spectres  into  sight,  and  like  a  ghostly  visita- 
tion disappeared.  Thus  into  the  night  I  glided,  hold- 
ing converse  with  the  night,  —  a  wingless  bird  myself, 
flying  with  birds. 


'o:,  i. 


? 


W:^ 


174 


DAYLKiirr   LAND. 


Tlioso  wlio  know  Nature  only  hy  day  know  only  half 
of  her,  and  the  least  interesting'  half  at  that.  Natui«' 
has  two  faees.  Both  are  heaiilifid,  hut  one  is  su])ieuiei\ 
so.  The  one  is  as  ji  human  face,  ••lowinj;',  sunli«;hted, 
tanned,  searied,  it  nuiy  he,  ju'ifeet  or  lui[)erfect,  as  the 
(hiy  is.  Her  nij^ht-tinie  face  is  as  an  an«»('rs,  the  face 
of  one  tiiat  has  heen  translated  from  Hesh  to  spirit,  and 
hy  the  translation  h)st  its  «»rossness  and  heeome  ethe- 
realized.  Its  heauty  is  that  heauty  whieh  is  veiled,  which 
liains  froiii  luivini''  its  loveUness  snuutsted  rather  than 
reveaU'd.  Tlie  nude  is  always  unsatisfactory,  for  loveli- 
ness is  ever  ti  thinj»'  of  sui»t»('stion  rather  than  revehi- 
tion.  He  Avho  sees  all  plainly  sees  too  much.  As  sii»ht 
would  roh  religion  of  the  olory  <>f  faith,  so  it  rohs 
loveliness  of  the  henelits  of  imauination. 

One  may  tire  of  Nature  hv  (hiv,  —  the  sun  makes 
her  connnon.  When  niornini;'  hits  fully  ecnne,  we  may 
go  within-(h)()rs  and  eat ;  we  may  <»'o  to  our  toil :  we 
may  strike  our  tents  and  move  on,  weary  of  the  dnsty 
road.  For  not  until  the  j'lare  is  ])asse(l  an.i  the  hot 
sun  dimmed  hy  ccmiino*  shadows  and  cooled  hy  falling" 
dew,  need  W(!  halt  on  the  march  or  come  forth  from 
our  doors  to  look  ahont  us.  Verily  to  the  lover  of 
Nature,  whether  on  plain  or  amid  hills,  or  shore  of  sea, 
the  nii»ht  is  the  time  to  wake.  Then  should  eyes  he 
o])ened  as  stars  and  oihed  for  vision,  as  is  the  moon 
when  it  rolls  in  rounded  jjerfeetion  through  the  lighted 
skies. 

And  oh,  the  voices  of  the  night !  The  day  is  tune- 
less. Man  monopolizes  it  with  his  noises ;  with  the 
murmurs  of  his  trade,  the  roar  and  rumhle  of  his  com- 


il 


A   STKANdK    MIDNKill'l'    KII>K 


IT. 


nicrre  ;  with  the  stridj'iit  calls  of  his  sli<iutiii'»s,  liis  curs- 
iuii",  and  his  tmhuh-iicc.  I)ut  witli  the  iiiiiht  coiiit's 
tliat  sih'iici'  which  is  vocal.  Then  Nat ui«' sink's.  Ilcr 
tuiict'uliioss  is  heard  ahroad,  and  her  soft  melodies  come 
sweetly  to  listening'  ears.  The  sod  linds  s|»eech  ;  the 
hrook  minimus  to  the   hanks:   the   trees   whisper  and 


s   wnisper 

call  in  sylvan  concert;  and  thi»iui;h  all  the  fields  a 
thousand  toniiiies,  nnknown  amoni"'  tlu'  lani»naii«'s  of 
men,  hn'ak  I'orth  in  sweet  expression. 

To  many  1  know  that  what  I  write  will  l»e  a  mvstery, 
or  only  as  the  joinin;^'  <d'  meanini;less  words,  hnt  to 
others  it  will  come  f'reii>l'.t<'d  v. ith  soherness  and  tinth. 
For  they,  as  well  as  I,  have  camped  upon  the  shores 
of  lakes  amid  the  circlini;'  woods  ;  hav(^  stood  alone 
at  ni«>ht  on  Ixmndless  prairies,  and  thrown  themselves 
down  amid  the  trasses  and  flowers,  nnahle  to  sleep  he- 
canse  of  the  lilorv  that  was  ahove  tiieni,  the  odors  that 
they  hreathed,  and  the  sweet  sonnds  which,  came  to 
their  charmed  ears  from  nii»h  or  far.  And  others  yet 
have  stood  npon  the  top  of  iMtuntains  when  the  sun 
went  down,  and  with  gladness  seen  the  shadows  darken 
and  the  stars  come  out,  watchini*'  for  them  as  for  loved 
faces  not  seen  for  years,  and  have  sat  on  the  hare  rocks, 
hour  after  hour,  and  watched  them  draw  their  i»()lden 
circles  thn  us>h  the  blue  ahove,  and  in  the  silence  heard 
all  the  tones  of  memory  and  the  pro|)hecies  of  hope. 
And  when  at  last  they  sle[)t  they  found  the  <»ranite 
softer  than  a  downy  bed  shut  in  with  walls  and  doors. 
These,  reading',  know  what  I  mean,  and  that  I  say  the 
truth  and  lie  not  when  I  say  that  he  who  has  seen  Na- 
ture only  by  day  has  seen  only  the  lesser  half  of  her. 


,.    •»(  , 


'I 


» 


M" 


no 


DAVI.KIHT   I. AND. 


;iii(l  ill  one  souse,  and  Ji  true  oiic  too,  lias  not  st't'ii  licr 
at  all. 

Still     on-    .?*''*^-»«*~ 
ward     we   * 
drove.  Here    '. 
and  the  r  («   z 
the   j;i'ade 
sloped  down-   |. 
ward,    a  n  d 
t  li  e  n    t  h  e 
luijihtv  train 
ilew    like    a 


meteor.      Tt 

was  not  rld- 

i  n  <»•  ;       w  e 

were  hciiii;'  projeeted 

into  space,  we  were 

l)ein<i'    shot  thi'on<>h 

the  air.     The  atmos- 

])here    was    cool,     dewy,    fra 

i>rant. 

the  ])ialrie,  fields  of  white  fo 

envelo])ed  the  track.    Into  and 

through  these  soft  layers  of  Heece  onr  faces  dashed. 

Ont  of  tlieni  they  rose  as  from  a  hath  of  si)ray,  drip- 


A    SilfANdi;    MIDNKim     KII>K, 


17' 


Hiiij»'  with   itcrt'iimcd    water.      How  (hlicioiiH  tlu»  hvuhv 
of   life    Ijccamr  !      Tlicrc    was    not    a    sl< 


»w   vein    III    us. 


We   llowi'd    t'lill    to    the  l)riiii  witli  vitality.      'I'lu-  con- 


>t'  1 1 


scioiisness  ol    happy,  hiioyaiit  hit'  was   in    us  as  ncvci 


t   lit'( 


)>(-i 


ore 


r\ 


ic  wild 


i'oi 


CCS    o 


f  tl 


W    W(M 


Id 


were  round    us 


and  wo  were  of  tlicm.      We  were  of  the  atoms   «d'  the 


11 


nivcrsc,  of  wliicli  i-acli  atinii  is  superlatively  vital. 
We  were  all  alive.  We  tlirol)l)ed  and  panted  on  the 
risinii"  jirades  like  the  en^iine.  Down  the  lonu'  deelen- 
sioiis  we  reeled  and  rollieUed  like  a  frolicsome  meteor. 
W»'  whirled  ahuiii'  throui»li  the  uloom  like  the  hirds  of 
iiiliht  which  we  startled  from  the  scdu'cs.  We  rolled 
liillowinii'  onward  like  the  <»rcat  herds  of  cattle  which 
our  shriekiii<;'  llii;ht  stampeded.  We  thundered  around 
the  hends  of  the  river  furiously,  and  the  snortini;'  horses 
in  mi«;hty  hands  hurst  wildly  away  from  the  hiaze  of 
our  headlight  as  vfo  dashed  into  the  ranches,  heads 
tossini*'  from  side  to  side,  eyes  hla/iui;"  like  diamonds, 
ancs  and   tails   streaniino;   their    [)omp   and   pride   of 


III 


th 


I 


owinii'  hair  atai 


fj 


Thus  through  the  short  summer  nii;ht  we  rode  or 
flew.  Twice  tlie  monster  that  hore  us  so  steadily  and 
swiftly  sto])ped  at  water  and  stood  ])antini»'.  Around 
it  crowded  a  nioh  of  wild -h)okiiii;"  creatures, —  the 
Indians  of  the  i)kiins  ;  Blackfeet,  who  rank  with  the 
Sioux  for  coura<»e  ;  Crees,  wliose  kindred  wi<»'wams 
stretched  to  the  coast  of  Lahrador  ;  the  Assinnihoins 
or  "  Si  >nies,"  wliose  toni»iie  connects  them  dimly  with 
the  trihes  which  traj)  upon  the  shores  of  far  Mistas- 
siniii  ;  tlh  se  and  the  scattered  remnants  of  other  trihes 
tlir()n<»'ed    around,    wrapped    within    blankets,    sih  utiy 


,.  I 


178 


DAVLKillT   LAXU. 


n 


iil 


<»azin_i»"  at   us  as  we  sat   ujxm  the  engine.      A   wilder- 
lookimr  sot  of  Ix'iiiirs  no   man  ever  saw.     Tl 


U'll"     lOUii 


coarse,  raven-black  hair  hun<»'  low  upon  their  hosonis 
and"  shoulders.  The  wind  at  times  hlew  the  hlaek 
tani»le  of  it  over  their  faces.  These  were  ]>ainted  with 
red  and  yellow  ochres,  which  heii»ht(  ned  indescrihahly 
their  wild,  lierce  asj)ect.  Their  hhmkets  were  of  hii»h 
colors,  s(nne  of  a  solid  red,  some  red  with  hlack  striju's, 
while  others  were  checkered  in  hlazino-  s(|uares.  The 
plumes  of  eaole,  raven,  and  pelican  were  knotted  in 
(heir  coarse  locks.  They  said  nothing-.  They  asked 
no  alms.  The  hrakemen,  oilers,  and  wheel-testers  flashed 
their  kuiteiiis  into  their  faces,  and  joked   them   ])leas- 


tb 


antiv 


Th 


U'v  made  no  answer  and  thev  never  stnre( 


1  th 


d. 


What  were  their  thon<>iits  ?    I  will  stir  them  up,  1  said. 

I  stepped  to  the  side  of  an  old  chief.  —  a  tall, 
wrinkled,  and  withered  Uhickfoot. — and  said,  "('hief, 
are  you  thirdvin<»"  that  this  prairie  land  was  the  land 
of  your  fathers  for  a  thousaiid  years?  thai  their  hones 
are  under  its  flowers  to-nii»ht,  and  that  their  s])irits  are 
hnntinii'  the  deer  and  the  hulfalo  this  mhuite  on  the 
mighty  sand-hills  there  to  the  east  ?  that  this  fiery 
monster  I  am  ridino*  is  the  Evil  Power  that  has  ban- 
ished y(mr  i»ame,  rol)])ed  you  of  your  huntini»-i»r()unds, 
and  destroyed  the  stren«»th  and  olory  of  your  race? 
Do  von  not  hate  it  and  us  who  manai»"e  and  use  it  ?  " 
He  listened  witli  his  oaze  full  on  nu».  1  knew  hy  the 
flash  that  came  into  the  hlack  eyes  that  he  undi'rstood, 
but  his  face  i»ave  no  sijni  and  he  si)ake  not  a  word. 
But  I  had  t(>ld  him  the  truth,  and  he  knew  it. 

The  Indians  you  nu'ct  on  the  liiu^  of  this  Canadian 


•n 


L 


»^At'' 


■h. 


i  > 


I 


'I 


li 


i^l.f 


SAPOMaXICOW     or    CRiiWFOOl, 


faiHif^':!;! 


V: 


A   STUAN(;K   MIDNKiHT   uiDi; 


181 


road  are  finer  spcciiuens  of  the  red  raee  tlian  those  met 
with  on  the  lines  that  run  tlironji'li  tlie  States.  Tlie 
early  French  treated  the  Indians  with  humanity,  the 
English  \\\0\  harharity.  The  Hudson's  Hay  Company's 
connnereial  instincts  i)rom|)ted  wisdom,  —  the  wisdom 
of  justice  and  mercy  ;  and  so  its  factors  and  agents 
continued  on  in  the  line  of  humane  French  precedence. 
T!ie  Canadian  government  naturally  fell  heir  to  this 
policy  of  wis(h)m,  and  in  the  main  has  striven  honestly 
to  live  up  to  it.  The  heneficial  effect  of  this  treatnu'nt 
is  apparent  to  the  most  casual  ohserver.  The  Indians 
of  the  Canadian  west  and  northwest  are  not  like  the 
tlehauched   and   degraded    vagaijonds  we  find    hanging 


iround  the   stations  of   oui 


f 


West 


ern    rai 


Iroadf 


Tl 


ley 


are  well-clothed,  cleanlv,  healthy-lookino;  and   m  manv 


Th 


w 


cases  fine  specnnens  of  the  red  race.  I  he  women  are 
(11  dressed  and  of  decent  appearance.  The  Ixjvs  look 
vigorous  and  the  u'irls  healthv,  and  not  a  few  (d"  them 
handsonu'.  They  look  as  if  they  were  still  ca|tal)le  of 
taking  cave  of  themselves,  still  had  a  right  to  live,  and 
a  place  reserved  for  them  hy  the  hond  of  honorai)le 
eni»ai»ement  in  the  land  of  their  fathers.  Instead  of 
heing  a  painful  spectacle  to  the  (continental  tourist,  the 
Indians  of  the  [)lains  between  Winnipeg  and  the  Uockv 
Mountains,  a  stretch  of  nearly  a  thousand  miles,  are 
objects  of  interest  and  ])leasant  surpris(>. 

At  last  we  noticed  a  change  in  the  air  ahead   of  us. 

The  darkness   began   to  change    to   gi'ay.      The   stars 

above    us    shone   with    shorter    beams.     A    pale    light 

spread  over   the  vast   plain.      A  Hock  of  geese  wedged 


thei 


lab 


ir  way   lahoriousiy   nortnward    tnro 


th 


(I    th 


)U<' 


h    tl 


U' 


asUen 


i."    i 


ffh'l 


182 


DAYLKJHT  LAND. 


oloom.  To  tlie  left,  in  the  bend  of  Bow  River,  a  herd 
of  cattle  stood  in  the  fo«»',  their  heads  and  hueks  show- 
in"'  above  the  white  Heeee,  their  bodies  invisible — a 
strange  effect.  The  old,  old  tight,  older  than  the 
world,  was  being  waged  around  us,  —  the  tight  of  light 
witli  darkness.  The  attack  and  defence  were  eijually 
stubborn.  There  were  no  charges,  no  sudden  dashes, 
no  (j[uick  recoil  or  recoveries  of  position.  The  move- 
ments were  vast,  slow-motioned,  innnense.  The  stars 
from  pole  to  i)ole  telegraphed  the  result.  The  horizon 
line  of  the  whole  world  showed  us,  as  we  gazed,  the 
victory  and  the  defeat.  Suddenly,  high  in  heaven,  the 
sunnuits  of  the  mountains,  an  endless  line,  shone  i)early 
white.  Below  the  gleaming  s])ires  tlieir  monstrous 
bulks  were  black  as  niglit.  It  was  a  sight  to  see  witli 
lifted  hands.  Then  all  the  world  grew  rosy.  The  low- 
lying  fog  Helds  crimsoned.  The  foothills  sprang  into 
view.  The  ch)U(ls  blushed.  The  sun  without  warninii' 
had  kissed  t^M'm.  The  icy  ])eaks  flashe<l  wliite  like 
electric  lights.  The  sini  Icaju'd  from  the  far  eastern 
grasses,  and  Morning,  with  ;».  rush  of  glorious  color  on 
her  face,  to(dv  vivid  ])(>ssession  of  the  world.  And  thus, 
witli  faces  wet  witli  dew,  our  nostrils  tilled  witli  forest 
odors,  our  eves  bri<>ht  as  the  eves  of  those  who  had 
discovered  a  new  world,  we  dashed  into  the  ani])hitliea- 
tre  of  the  everlasting  hills,  and  stopjied  at  last,  oui* 
glorious  ride  ended,  and  stood,  in  the  red  light  of  the 
morninp;.  gazing  bewildered,  astonished,  at  that  mar- 
vellous expression  of  Nature's  beauty  and  majesty 
known  to  tlie  tourist  of  this  western  world  as  B<niff\ 


HI 


l\ 


■m\ 


'I' 


CHAPTER   X. 


HANFF. 

"  There  was  a  snuiid  of  revelry  liy  iii<;ht." 

N  the  noitlwast  sick'  of  Scotland,  it'  you 
Avill  look  at  your  maps,  ocntlcincn." 
said  tlu!  .Iu(li;v,  ''you  ^v'll  Hud  this 
name  of  Banil".  To  1  you  tlu' 
story  of  its  trans]»lantii  would  l)i' to 
iiive  vou  the  history  of  life,  —  a  life 
which  heoau  there,  and  heino-  removed  here  develojx'd 
into  one  of  the  stroni>-est  personalities  he  continent. 

The  once  poor  hoy  at  HanlV  has  since  hecome  one  of 
the  chief  forces  of  this  western  world.  No  higher 
(•(mipliment  could  be  paid  him  than  to  give  tiiis  mao- 


lcS4 


DAVI.HIIIT   LAND. 


iiificcnt  location  tlic  luunc  oF  liis  l)iitli})Iii('e.  Hut  no 
one  wlio  knows  tlu>  modesty  iind  <;i't'atnt'ss  of  the  man, 
and  tlu'  services  he  has  (h)no  this  eountry,  will  say  that 


tli 


ie  eomi>Iiment  is  excessive 


'1 
riieie  is  no  reward  too  j^reat,"  exclaimed  Mr.  I\'|)- 

perell,  "  there  is  no  reward  too  <>reat  for  a  man  whose 

faith  and  eonra<»e  have  o|»ened  np  such  a  country  as 

this    to    civilization.      Such  a  man    has   enlar«»ed    the 

opjjortunity    of    human    elfort,  and    made  hap[)y   and 

prosjK'rous  homes   possihle  to  millions." 

We  were  standini;'  at  the  eelehrati.^  Sul})hur  Sprini;- 
at  the  time,  one  of  the  many  natural  curiosities  which 
make  this  h)cation  famous.  There  were  only  four  of 
ns  left,  —  the  Jud»»e,  Mr.  Pe|)perell,  the  Man  fnmi  New 
llam])shire,  and  myself.  We  were  all  old  travellers, 
and  saw  that  in  Banlf  alone  we  had  a  uood  week's 
entertainment,  without  i>()in«»'  hevond    it  a  rod. 

"  This  Avater  sjuells  had   enoni»h  to  cure  a  man,  tliat 


if  1 


IS,  ir  lie  was  very  sick,    sai( 


d  tl 


le 


V 


ew 


II; 


tmitsnu'e   man 


(|uietly,  as  h    lifted  a  cup  of  the  heavily-tint  tured  water 


to  1 


lis  nose 


1    k 


now 


insi', 


a    man    who    left    his    lai 
aid   the  .lud<;"e,    reHectivt'ly. 


neness    m 


that 


si)r 

"  It  may  he  Jiat  is  wnat  T  smell,"  added  the  Man 
from   New   Ila  ipshire,  laconically. 

By  this  time  we  had  ))asse(l  through  the  tunnel  th;»t 
has  heeii  hored  into  the  ledi»e,  in  the  centre  of  Avhicli 
Nature  liad  hollowed  that  strange  cavern  from  whose 
bottom  hoil  the  waters  of  healinir. 


"At  that  time,"  continued  the  Judire,  is»iH 


r>^' 


)rini>"  as 


not  worthy  his  attention  the  facetious  remark  of  our 


HANFK 


IS/ 


t'oiupaiiioii,  "ut  tliat  time,  this  passage  liad  not  Ix'cn 
excavated,  uiid  the  only  way  to  reach  tliis  curative  pool 
was  to  he  lowered  hy  a  rope  throui^h  that  aperture,  up 
there,"  and  he;  pointed  to  tiie  hole  at  the  centre  ol"  tiie 
cavern's  dome,  some  two  feet  in  diameter,  through 
which  we  could  see  the  skv,  and  which  originally  i^ave 
vent  to  the  heated  atmosphere  of  the  warm  sprini;' 
within. 

"They  say,"  said  Mr.  IN'pperell,  "  that  the  Indians 
used  to  hrin«i'  their  sick  to  this  mountain  side,  and  lower 
them  throuj»h  that  hole  into  the  warm  sulj>hurous  wa- 
ter ;  and  they  declare  that  not  a  sin<;le  man  ever  sj)ent 
a  day  and  a  ni<»ht  in  this  cavern  that  was  n't  lifted  out 
well.'" 

"  It  wouhl  n't  have  taken  a  day  and  a  nii;ht  to  have 
cured  me,"  said  the  Man  from  New  Hampshire,  as  he 
stoj>j)ed  his  nose  and  started  for  tin  S' nnel.  "  Any 
man  woidd  he  a  fool  not  to  swear  he  was  cured   after 

ore  this  ])assan(' 


hein<»"  ten  minutes  in  this  oven  ;  for  hef 

was  cut,  which  L»ives  its  chimney  a  draft,  it  must   have 

heen  cl(>se,  ndohty  ch)se,  in  here  !  " 

"It  doesn't  smell  like  a  rose,"  lauL;hini;ly  returned 
the  .Iudi;e,  as  lie  shufHed  on  after  us.  "  hut  a  man  will 
stand  sul[)hur  pretty  stroni*"  to  <»et  rid  of  rheumatism." 

"  They  s;iy  that  this  whole  mountain  has  a  suh- 
stratum  of  sulphur,"  remarked  Mr.  I'epju'rell,  after  he 
had  taken  two  or  three  whilVs  of  pure  air,  heyond  the 
mouth  of  the  ]>assa 


0'i> 


"  The  Indians  are  ])0()r  theologians,"  sai<l  the  Man 
fnnn  New  IIam])shire.  "  They  h)cated  their  hell  at 
the  Glacier  ;  they  should  have  hrou<»ht  it  this  si(h'  of 
the  rauiie." 


M 


1S(> 


DAYIJCIIIT   LAN!). 


"  I  liavc  always  tli(mi»Iit  it  stian«»(',"  rcinarkcd  the 
.Iiid^c,  "  that  a  man  witli  the  kno\vh'<l«;('  of  Milton 
should  have  cojiiicctcd  sulphur  with  the  |)unitive  suf- 
fcrin<;'  of  the  race,  when,  in  fact,  it  is  one  of  the  most 
[)ot('nt  of  all  curative  principles." 

"  rerfectly  adapted  for  Pur«»atory,"  (piietly  remarked 
the  Man  frouj  New  Hampshire. 

I  presume  that  four  men  never  enjoyed  a  lia|)pier 
week  than  we  spent  at  JJanlV.  We  rolled  leisurelv 
over  the  fine  roads  tliat  the  <>'overnn»ent  liad  construct- 
ed,  windinii-  in    and    out  alon<>'  the   hends  of  tlu'  How 


li 


uver,  runnnii"'  alon<»'  the  oase  or  the  <>'i«»'antic  moun- 
tains and  through  the  cool  forests  of  the  iirs.  We 
explored,  with  the  curiosity  and  ea<»erness  of  hoys,  the 
sechuL'd  places,  and  followed  the  dim  by-paths,  not 
knowini*'  or  carino*  whither  they  led  us,  happy,  whether 
they  conducted  us  to  some  nohh'  prospect  or  termi- 
nated suddeidy  at  some  (lrip])ini''  led<>e.  We  searclied 
for  curious  minerals  in  the  sides  of  the  mountains, 
translated  the  i>-eolo<;ical  records  of  the  cliffs,  and  col- 
lected ])olished  jU'hhles  from  the  bed  of  the  foamin<»' 
S])rav.  We  slept  at  noonday  under  the  pines,  lulled 
to  sleep  by  the  Falls  of  the  Bow,  and  lishe<l,  not  in 
vain,   for  its  noted   trout   in  the  rapids.      We  watched 


tl 


w  storm  ( 


loU(b 


s  vainlv  assau 


It    tl 


w   uu)nstrous  moun- 


tains, that  lifted  their  heads  majestically  above  the 
reach  of  storms  ;  listened  to  the  thunder  as  it  bellowed 
in  the  i;()r<;es  and  rund)le<l  down  tlie  ravines  ;  saw  the 
rainbows  <»tow,  and   shrink   their   arches  of   splendor. 


an( 


I  fad 


e  awav  ;  an( 


d,  at  eveniuu",  sat  in  the  i»Teat  ant»l( 


'?->' 


of  the  veraiula  which  overlooked  the  Falls  five  luuidred 


m 


--•*■.' 


y 


i 


■.■^'i^' 


MM' 


i; 


s 

f 

M 

S 


c 
c 


BANFF, 


1.SJ) 


f(M»t  l)('l(>w  IIS,  and  saw  tlic  round  moon  roll  nj)  above  the 
Fairiioiinc  ran«;v,  and  wliitcn  tin*  vallcv  of  the  How  witii 
its  silvory  li<»'ht.  We  admired  the  ample  desi;;n  ot"  liie 
commodious  house,  —  a  veiitai>le  palace,  with  interior 
finish  ot*  native  woods  |)olished  to  a  f;leam  ;  its  wide 
stairwavs  and  ii'alleries  ;  the  nohle  diniim-room,  with  its 
lofty  ceilin*;',  which  tlu  .lud*;e  pnnioiniced  "  lit  to  he 
a  hancpiet-hall  for  the  i;(kIs  ;  "  and  the  lar«;'e  verandas 


that 


encin 


led  tl 


le  en 


tire  I 


louse,  as  i 


ft 


o  invi 


te  tl 


le  Li'iU'st 


to  enjov,  to  their  lill,  the  majestic  scenery  which  stood 


H'rouneu  arouni 


d  it. 


''  Here,"  exclaimed  Mr.  Honneville,  "here,  is  a  con- 
tinental enter[)rise  of  which,  as  a  continental  man,  I  am 
|>roud.  A  year  a«;'o  and  what  was  there  liere  ?  A 
forest,  a  solitude.  And  out  of  that  forest  and  soli- 
tude, at  the  touch  of  coura«»eous  enter|)rise,  this  nohle 
structure  has  risen  with  all  its  a|)purtenances  of  com- 
fort and  luxury,  as  in  the  mind  of  the  dreamer  a  vision 
arises  in  the  darkness  of    nii»ht." 

"The  only  vision,"  said  the  Man  from  New  Ilamj)- 
sliire,  "  that  while  it  deliuhts  the  eve,  ever  f'ullv  satis- 
tied  the  stomach." 

"  The  climax  of  civilization,"  remarked  the  .Indue 
contentedly,  as  he  accepted  a  ( ij»ar  from  Mr.  Pejjpereirs 
case.  "  A  ])erfect  climax  of  civilization.  The  dessert 
at  dinner  to-day  made  me  profoundly  <»Tateful   that   I 


was 


not  I 


)orn  a 


harl 


)arian. 


Had  you  ])een,  you  would  have  civilized  the  trihe 
and  imported  a  French  c//r/',  .ludne,"  retorted  the  New 
Hampshire  man  lauuhinLilv. 

At  the  appointed  day  the  scattered  members  of  the 


'ly 


i     ' 


'  I 


% 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
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PhotDgraphic 

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V 


O^ 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER, NY.  MS 80 

(716)  872-4503 


190 


DAYIJdHT    LAND. 


party  Ivept  their  rendezvous  at  tlie  hotel.  Tlie  house 
swarmed  with  j^iiests.  A  eosiuopoHtan  eoiiipanv  in 
trutli.  The  continent  hi  its  every  section,  ahnost,  was 
rei)resented.  The  nations  ot*  Europe  and  the  islands 
of  the  seas  were  there.  The  fla<>s  of  old  Enoland,  of 
France,  and  of  the  Great  llepuhlic  were  fraternally  in- 
tertwined. Science  and  art,  poetry  and  letters,  ninsie, 
heauty,  and  wit  were  joined  in  hright  conipanionshij). 
A  progranune  for  the  eveninj^'s  entertainment  had  heen 
piepared  and  the  Ju(l<»e  ai)[)ointed  master  of  ceremo- 
nies. The  stars  lighted  the  world  outside,  and  within 
the  electric  glohes  Hooded  the  house  with  their  white 
radiance. 

"  Ladies  and  gentlemen,"  hegan  the  Judge,  "  this  is 
not,  I  will  honestly  confess,  my  maiden  speech,  and  yet 
I  find  myself  alfected  as  if  it  w^ere.  I  am  emoarrassed, 
not  at  the  courtesy  of  your  suffrage,  hut  at  the  nov- 
elty of  my  position.  A  citizen  of  tlie  Golden  Gate,  1 
find  myself  in  tlie  Dominion  of  the  Queen,  surrounded 
hy  an  audience  representing  almost  every  section  of 
that  Empire  on  Avhich  tlie  sun  never  sets,  every  State 
and  Territory  of  the  Great  Rejiuhlic,  and  almost  every 
civilized  nation  on  the  face  of  the  Ci'itli.  We,  the 
citizens  of  the  Kepuhlic,  moved  by  love  of  country  and 
of  institutions  which  are  precious  to  every  lover  of 
liberty  wherever  he  is  found,  wish  to  hold  a  social  re- 
union. With  that  modesty  for  which  we  Americans 
are  noted  the  world  around,  we  proceeded  jiromptly  to 
a})])ropriate  this  hotel  and  all  the  resources  for  enter- 
tainment in  the  establishment,  including  yourselves, 
surreptitiously  inveigled  under  the  name  of  guests,  that 


<  ^  I 


i  ^ti 


''■^Hii 


I  ii    J 


"S!y"=S«!S5^, 


Ilis  is 
d  yet 
issed, 
iiov- 
itc,  1 
ided 
1   of 
State 
very 
tlie 
and 
•  of 
re- 
cans 
y  to 
iter- 
Ives, 
that 


m 

T 

m 
z 


M 


r:;  .1. 


■Hi' 


!  i 


.'I 


iff 

il    ■ 

.,    ''     i 

111'."- 


(♦*: 


'J' 


ii?  ■;  f 


!*.  ;• 


t-1 


iRii 


r  ■  i; 


«j? 


N 


BANFF. 


id;} 


your  elegance,  your  wit,  and  your  beauty  nii«;lit  add 
eclat  to  tlie  occasion.  This  piratical  proceeding  we  pro- 
ceeded to  legalize  by  a  process  invented  by  us  Yankees 
known  as  the  '  Town  Meeting ; '  a  process  which  has 
been  wittily  described  as  enabling  the  original  New 
Englander  to  steal  his  lands  from  the  Indians,  become 
a  rebel  to  his  king,  and  change  the  commandments 
without  doing  violence  to  his  conscience.  At  this  meet- 
ing of  my  fellow-countrymen  1  was  elected  master  of 
ceremonies,  a  dignity  which  I  did  not  obtain,  accord- 
ing to  a  quaint  national  custom  prevalent  among  us, 
without  being  <)[)enly  charged  by  my  competitors  with 
having  reached  the  lofty  elevation  by  a  scandalous 
stuffing  of  the  ballot-box.  Here  andd  these  everlast- 
ing hills,  in  this  })alace  of  modern  luxury,  with  the 
flags  of  all  nations  intertwined,  emblematic  of  that 
peace  which  not  only  now  prevails  in  the  Republic  and 
its  relations,  but  through  the  Empire  oF  the  English- 
si)eaking  race.,  and  with  an  audience  more  truly  cos- 
mopolitan than  I  have  ever  seen  outside  of  the  official 
halls  of  government,  we  hold  our  hai)py  reunion.  We 
Americans  are  not  formal.  We  are  not  exclusive. 
The  liberties  of  refinement  will  rule  the  evening.  Lit- 
erature will  be  honored.  Music  will  be  applauded. 
Beauty  will  be  admired,  genius  receive  its  acchdm,  the 
banquet  table  be  spread,  and  then  Terpsichore  shall 
dance  to  the  music  of  the  hours,  till  the  flush  of  morn- 
ing shall  turn  the  icy  pinnacles  of  the  mountains  above 
us  to  the  color  of  the  rose." 

There  was  just   that  Fourth  of  July   swing  to   the 
eloquence  of  the  Judge,  that  rhetorical  abandon,  which 


'  4 


M      1 

t                                             9 

■        '     i 

1  It 

it 

■    ♦ 

4    -it    ' 

^  i  ■  ! :    r 

>}■  I'll         !' 

Ufjl  j;! 

j  1 


K  i\ 


104 


DAYLKillT   LAND. 


suited  exactly  the  mood  of  liis  fellow-countrymen,  and 
we  all  cheered  Imn  us  none  of  us  have  ever  been 
cheered  since  our  Class  Day  oration,  when  we  electri- 
fied our  sisters,  our  cousins,  and  our  aunts  with  the 
Hiohts  of  our  eloquence.  We  all  cheered  him  im- 
mensely. The  Man  from  New  Hampshire,  who  had 
been  a  self-n(miinated  rival  to  the  Judg'e  in  his  strug- 
gle for  the  chairmanship,  prolonged  his  applause  as 
if,  like  a  true  American  when  defeated,  he  would 
triumph  over  his  hated  rival  by  the  exhibition  of  his 
generosity. 

"  Ladies  and  gentlemen,"  resumed  the  Judge,  when 
the  Man  from  New  Hampshire  had  subsided,  feeling 
that  he  was  the  true  victor,  "  ladies  and  gentlemen, 
I  will  first  present  to  you  Professor  Blaniiton,  of  the 
Continental  College,  an  Institution  not  yet  erected, 
but  which  nevertheless  stands  completed  to  the  eye 
of  faith,  on  the  subscription  paper  —  not  largely  sub- 
scribed to  as  yet  — •  which  he  carries  in  his  pocket. 
Professor  Blankton  will  give  us  a  recitation  of  an 
original  composition  prepared  expressly  for  this  occa- 
sion, called  The  Two  Flags." 

"  That  you  may  understand,  ladies  and  gentlemen," 
began  the  Professor,  as  with  a  graceful  bow  he  ac- 
knowledged the  generous  reception  we  gave  him,  "  that 
you  may  understand  the  location  and  natm-al  surround- 
ings of  this  little  episode  of  American-Canadian  life, 
which  I  am  to  render,  I  will  briefly  describe  them  to 
you. 

"  Below  the  Fraser  Caiion,  the  savage  sublimity  of 
which  cannot  perhaps  be  equaled  on  the  continent,  the 


HANFF 


195 


len 


?5 


if'e, 
to 

of 
the 


Fraser  curves  to  the  rig) it,  and  sends  its  deep,  stronjjj^, 
down-rushino;  current  with  a  sullen  roar  against  the 
base  of  a  mountain.  And  he  who  stands  in  the  curve 
below  Yale,  and  looks  up  that  wide  reach  of  water 
to  where  it  rushes  out  of  the  glooiuy  pass,  from  be- 
tween walls  of  rocks  which  rise  six  thousand  feet  above 
it,  sees  as  g'rand  a  spectacle  and  as  sublime  a  vision  of 
river  and  mountain  as  he  may  find  on  the  continent. 
Opposite  this  curve,  on  which  you  will  ima<;ine  your- 
self standing,  stretches  a  })lain,  acres  in  extent,  lying 
enclosed  in  the  curve  of  the  great  stream,  under  the 
rounded  banks  of  which,  when  the  water  is  lowest  in 
summer,  stretches  a  bar  of  brown  sand.  From  that  bar 
a  crowd  of  Americans,  Avho  had  broken  through  the 
vast  mountains  from  California,  in  18G8,  took  in  a  few 
days  more  than  a  million  of  dollars  of  granulated  gold. 
From  this  fact  it  received  the  name  of  American  Bar, 
a  name  which  it  retains  to  this  day.  On  the  plain 
above  the  bar,  directly  in  front  of  the  monstrous  mouth 
of  the  Fraser  Caiion,  were  camped  more  than  six  hun- 
dred of  our  fellow-countrymen. 

"  It  is  doubtful,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  if  a  rougher, 
braver,  more  reckless  crowd  were  ever  seen  in  British 
Columbia.  They  represented  the  frontier  of  our 
country  ;  that  frontier  which  stands  for  exploration,  mad 
ventures,  audacious  enterprises,  personal  courage,  coarse 
bravado,  manhood  wrecked,  recklessness  of  life,  and 
generous  impulses.  In  it,  every  State  and  Territory  of 
the  Union  had  its  spokesman.  The  dialect,  the  per- 
sonal characteristics,  the  humor,  even  the  profanity  of 
each  section  was  represented  by  its  true  type.     Many 


i!'i' 


v.m 


DAVI.Kiiir    I. AND. 


iVh 


% 


wore  old  toi'tv-iiiiicrs,  nicii  wlio  had  ciosslmI  tlic  plains 
ojj  toot,  lillc  in  hand,  wiicn  tlio  Kast  went  wild  at  the 
mnvs  that  <;()ld  could  he  had  for  the  di,i;i;'in<;'  hi'vond 
tho  Novadas.  Youth  and  ai»o  and  iniddlo  lii'c  wcro 
there.  Ex-anny  nu'i  JJlue  and  Gray,  Ueh  and  \'anlv, 
worked  as  partneis,  a.  I  starved,  feasted,  or  i»and»le(l  to- 
ii'cther  as  luck  smiled  or  frowned.  Sonu'  siii'iied  their 
name  with  that  sii;u  which  stands  with  e(|ual  facility 
for  piety  or  ignorance  ;  and  others  in  the  hush  of 
eveniuii'  sani»'  the  soni>s  of  their  Alma  Mater  to  the 
listenino'  pines  and  silent  stars.  Many  were  ii>norant 
of  any  grammar,  and  others  nHL;ht  have  seived  as 
Queen's  jMesseni;ers,  not  oidy  in  Kuro|)ean  hut  in  Asi- 
atic courts.  Many  were  scarred  with  wounds  received 
in  hattle  or  private  tights.  All  were  armed,  and 
ate  and  sle])t  with  a  })istol  at  their  hips.  And  while 
they  i>aiid)ied  or  het  heavily  when  in  nu)ney  or  licpior, 
nevertheless  drunkenness  ^vas  exce])tional  and  tights 
nnconnnon.  A  crude  hut  ellectively  administered  jus- 
tice guarded  ])roperty  and  life.  Thievini*' was  nidvnown 
at  Anu'rican  Bar.  '  It  does  n't  ])ay,'  said  Li<;ht-tin- 
<>ered  Dick  to  his  partner,  wdio  had  learned  a  useful 
trade  under  the  direction  of  his  native  State  :  '  it 
does  n't  })ay  in  a  connuunity  so  damned  ignorant  that 
the  court  has  only  one  classification  for  crimes  and  in- 
flicts hut  one  penalty.'  Still  it  cannot  he  said  that 
this  crowed  of  <»old-seekers  were  precisely  the  kind  of 
nuMi  one  would  select  for  church-mend)ership,  and  cer- 
tainly more  reckless  dare-deviltry  was  camped  that  sum- 
mer at  American  Bar  than  could  he  easily  gi-ouped  in 
any  other  spot  on  the   face  of   the  earth.     You  now 


t'li 


Ct" 


;l;l 


FRASER  CANON,  BELOW  NORTH  BEND. 


f  ; 

i;  I 


m 


'% ,  1* 


;:i  ■ 

■'|i; 


*!■: 


m   'I, 


i  i   ! 


,  .( 


■li  \i  ■ 


,;  f -I  •  I 


1  i 

i|'-    ■ 
1 

tis 

ij 

! 

1- 

f.J! 

i  1 1 ".  1- 

i  1 

k 

HAN'FF. 


101) 


have  the  kn()\vlLMl«»'o  of  tliu  locjition  and  charactciistics 
of  tlio  occiu'it'iice,  and  I  will  procct'd  to  j»iv((  you  tl>e 
story  of  — 

TIIK    TWO   KI-A(}S. 

"  Let  tlicsc  t\v(t  Hays  j;()  on  like  twin 
Stars  ill  ('(iiial  cimrsfs  iiidviiij;'." 

*•  It  was  the  Fourth  of  'Inly.  The  sun  stood  etpiidis- 
tant  })etween  the  monstrous  elilfs  that  niath^  the  walls 
of  the  IMack  Canon,  poui'in<>'  its  rays  strai<»ht  downward 
upon  the  foaiu-whitened  surface  of  the  racin*;'  water. 
On  the  plain  in  the  elhow  of  the  river  stood  the  canij), 
and  on  the  hush-eahins  and  old,  soiled  tents  the  r.iys 
fell  l)ri<;'htly  and  hot ;  all  the  hotter  they  seemed  to  the 
revelers  on  the  sand,  hecause  ahove  and  around  them, 
as  they  looked  thr()u«»li  the  heated  air,  they  eould  see 
the  cold  <»leam  of  <»laeiers  and  the  «»lint  of  ice  against 
the  blue  sky.  The  camp  was  in  holiday  mood  ;  not  a 
man  was  at  work  at  the  Bar.  To  have  lifted  pick  or 
pan  would  have  started  Ju(l<>'e  Lynch  that  day.  They 
had  struck  luck  at  the  Bar  and  their  mood  was  exuber- 
ant. Some  were  pitchin<>'  (juoits,  usino'  small  ba<;s  of 
o'old  dust  for  tlu'ir  (j[Uoits,  eacli  caster  riskin<>'  the  bajjf 
that  he  cast ;  others  were  en<^ao;ed  in  pistol  practice, 
the  bull's-eye  bein<^  a  ^old  eaole  at  fifty  yards.  The 
bullet  that  hit  won  the  eaule.  Some  were  Avliirlinu' 
knives  at  bank  notes.  In  every  tent  poker  was  bein<;' 
[)layed  with  a  recklessness  that  would  frioliten  a  rail- 
road magnate.  Two  men  were  ])ron()uncini»'  an  oration 
on  Liberty  at  either  end  of  the  camj),  while  a  scholarly 
lookino-  man,  considerablv  exhilarated  with  somethino; 


.1 


in  li  I 


m 


•}  t  J 
1-, 


V] 


liOO 


DAVIJCIIT   LAND. 


stroii^i'or  tliiiii  tlu»  Insjnratlou  of  tin*  poet,  was  vainly 
ciidcavorin;;'  to  proiioiiiicc  tlic  measures  of  a  patrintK* 
ode  lie  had  e()in[)()sed  to  u  throng'  of  uproarious  au- 
ditors. 

'"Suddeidy  at  the  mountain  end  of  th(»  central  street, 
u  thron«»'  of  men  appeared,  heiirin*"'  on  their  shoidders  a 
flaii'-stalV  with  the  halyards  all  iij»-<i-e<l.  At  their  head 
marched  lloosior  .rack,  who  was  '  loaded  with  lead  '  at 
Shiloh,  ciirrvinj;'  u  staff  from  which  waved  u  yard  (»f 
l)untin«»',  with  its  thirteen  stars  all  faded  and  tlu^  {glori- 
ous striju'S  sadly  hieached,  frayed  at  the  ed<»'es,  if  the 
truth  must  ho  toid,  and  '  damnahly  out  of  re])airs,'  as 
Han^or  Ilurry  asserted  ;  hut  synd)olic  still  of  liherty  to 
man,  and  of  the  oreat  country  which  stands  for  that 
liherty  the  world  over.  Ahead  of  it  niarched  the 
hand,  ccmiposed  of  a  little  snare  drum,  two  fifes,  and 
five  fiddles,  idayinii*  Yankee  Doodle  with  a  celeritv  of 
movement  and  an  earnestness  of  ex])ressi()n  which 
more  than  comj)ensated  for  the  artistic  deficiencies  of 
the  ])erformance. 

"  But,  oh  !  the  cheers  and  the  yells  that  ji^reeted  that 
little  cheap  flai»'  as  it  came  down  the  street !  The 
emjityini^  of  tents,  the  rushino-  of  the  g'and)lers ;  the 
pell-mell  that  ensued  !  In  the  rear  of  those  hearing  the 
flaj^-stalf  the  procession  was  formed,  and  twice  tlirou<»h 
the  camp  the  cheap,  faded  hanner  was  carried,  and  then 
in  the  centre  the  fiao-pole  was  set,  the  buntin<^  knot- 
ted to  the  halyards,  and  up  went  the  Stars  and  Stripes, 
while  every  head  was  uncovered  and  the  eyes  of  many 
grew  dim  as  they  gazed.  And  as  the  flag  went  up  and 
the  breeze  shook  it  out  and  the  sunshine  brio-htened 


■Ijlfl 


i;\\KF. 


'JO  I 


the  I'adi'd  stais  aiui  lilcaclicti  stiijM's,  u  cliccr,  lioaiso 
iiiid  str()ii«>",  stonucd  u|>\vard  lilxo  tlio  roar  oi"  a  t('in|t('st, 
startliiij;'  tlio  «»'<)ats  on  t'lc  crai;'  and  the  llsli-liawUs  at 
tlui  inoiitli  ot*  tlio  Canuii,  ami  liaii<»<)r  Ham,  cliiMltiii^' 
to  tln'  top  of  some  crackcr-hoxcs  with  his  six  shooter 
for  liis  hatoii,  ('oiistitiit('(l  hiinsclt'  Icaih'r  ot  the  iniisi(; 
of  the  occasion,  aii«l  in  his  cl(>ar  tcnoi*  voice,  resonant 
as  a  hu^lei's  call  at  snnrise,  hei;an, — 

'  Yes,  wo '11  rally  round  the  ting,  hoys, 

Wo  '11  v.Jly  once  iij;ain, 
Shoaling"  tho  hattle-cry   of   Freedom  ; 

Wo  "11  rally  from  the  hillside, 
Wo  "11  j;:ither  from  the   pliiin, 

Shontin_i>'  the  l):ittle-ery  of   Freedom. 
(J/iorus  :  Tho   Union  forever  I 
Ilmrah  !    hoys,  hnrrah! 

Down  with  the  traitor,  np  with  tho  star, 
While  we  rally  ronnd  the  tlaj;,  hoys. 

Rally  onc(;  again, 
Shonting  the  hattle-ory  of  Freedom.' 

"  Whether  i'  was  the  cxhihiration  of  the  occasion,  the 
swinp^  and  sweep  of  tlu^  verse,  or  the  thrill  of  pride 
that  the  symbol  above  their  heads  was  theirs  once 
more,  or  the  ma(»'ical  memories  of  the  old  days  before 
the  war,  we  cannot  say?  but  we  simply  record  the  fact 
that  when  the  singer  had  readied  the  chorus,  and  the 
ji'reat  crowd  of  rouoh,  !,ronze(l,  stroni>'  men  took  up  the 
refrain,  Arkansas  Keb  and  Mississippi  Pete,  who  had 
'  bored  the  old  fia<»- '  in  twenty  battles,  joined  in  as 
vio-orously  as  if  they  had  been  born  under  the  slope  of 
Bunker  Hill. 


Ji: 


^ 


'?T7 


i .     . 


i(..^ 


202 


DAYLIGHT   LAND. 


"■  The  sonjif  closed  in  a  loar  of  souiid  which  niiirht 
not  be  designated  by  Thomas  or  Zenahn  as  niusiu,  but 
which  fully  answered  the  demands  of  the  occasion, 
and  at  a  word  from  Bangor  Harry,  every  revolver 
left  its  owner's  hip,  and  six  hundred  polished  muzzles 
gleamed  in  the  sun.  Six  volleys  followed  the  signal  of 
the  leader  with  a  precision  which  demonstrated  that 
they  were  more  i)ractieed  in  the  use  of  the  ''  iron  " 
than  in   the   chromatic   scale. 

"  '  You  fellows,'  said  Bangor  Harry,  as  he  crawled 
carefully  down  from  the  top  of  his  cracker-boxes, 
'  you  fellowo  ain't  much  at  singing,  but  you  have  all 
ii'ot  the  classicid  touch  on  the  trioger.' 

"  It  was  in  fact  an  exuberant  and  exciting  crowd,  a 
crowd  which  the  least  touch  would  have  exploded  for 
fun,  patriotism,  or  deviltry.  And  it  was  at  this  lui- 
fortunate  junctuie  —  luifortunate  for  him — that  out 
of  his  bush  shanty  crawled  Bloody  Edwards,  a  big, 
aggressive,  red-faced  London  cockney,  who  had  come 
through  the  mountains  Avith  the  crowd  from  no  imagi- 
nable reason  save  sheer  accident,  and  still  remained 
with  them  because  of  tolerance  on  their  part  and  exces- 
sive indolence  on  his ;  for  there  certainly  was  nothing 
in  common  between  this  lofty-aeting,  boastful  cockney 
from  London  and  the  free  and  easy,  reckless  men 
among  whom  he  was  staying.  A  m  »re  boastful,  swag- 
gering braggart  never  breathed.  The  most  oifensive 
Briton  was  in  him  typed  most  ott'ensively.  His  favor- 
ite superlative  was  '  bloody  ! '  It  answered  even  the 
l)uri)ose  of  his  loyalty,  which  was  so  excessive  as  to 
tax  language  to  express,  and  gave  him  his  name. 


•li 


,  .1 
r 


BANFK. 


203 


!  I!: 


"  At  the  very  moineiit  when  the  vast  crowd  was  fairly 
boihiii;'  over  with  excitement  and  ready  for  any  mischief, 
came  Bloody  Edwards  upon  the  scene,  swai><>'eiiiio-  of- 
fensively and  waving'  a  small,  red,  British  Hag-  in  his 
hand.  Planting  himself  in  the  centre  of  the  street  in 
front  of  the  six  hundred  exhilarated  Americans,  he 
waved  the  little  banner  llauntingiy  over  his  head,  and 
howled  — 

"  '  Urrah  for  the  Flag  of  Hold  Hingland  ! ' 

"  For  an  instant  the  crowd  never  moved  ;  each  man 
stood  silently  in  his  tracks,  and  then  with  a  roar 
came  the  rush.  It  struck  Bloody  Edwards  like  a  land 
slide,  and  swept  him,  as  if  he  were  a  bit  of  ilfhrls,  to 
the  bank  of  the  river.  Then  out  of  the  roar  lanced 
a  voice,  '  Naturalize  him !  naturalize  him  !  JNIake  a 
Yankee  out  of  the  cockney  !  '  and  six  hundred  voices 
took  up  the  cry  —  for  the  humor  of  the  idea  [)leased 
them  —  '  Aye,  aye  !  Naturalize  him  ;  he  shall  take 
the  oath  of  allegiance.  Make  him  swear  by  the  Stars 
and  Strii)es  ! ' 

"  But  the  cockney  refused  to  become  a  Yaidvce  ; 
refused  point  blank,  and  garnished  his  refusal  by  ex- 
pletives known  only  to  the  slums  of  London. 

"  *  Curse  the  cockney,'  exclaimed  Cand)ridge  Jack, 
'  the  fool  acts  as  if  he  had  a  choice  in  the  matter  ; ' 
and  then  he  screamed,  '  Dip  him  !  Dip  him  !  Cool  him 
down  in  the  Eraser!  Pie  shall  swear  by  the  Stars  and 
Stripes,  or  drown  !  '  And  the  crowd  took  u})  the 
words  of  Cambridge  Jack,  for  the  cockney  had  no 
friends  ;  he  had  not  acted  to  make  any,  and  surely 
no  Hag  up  to  this  thue  had  ever  had  a  less  manly  rei)re- 


r»' •!',  ■ 


I 'I; 

1)    ■    i 


'th 


V  ,    . 


*; 


j  h 


!     ! 


:   i 


'»  '.'  il 

■  1  .  r      J 


mn 


m 

will- 


;} 


I 


I] 


204 


DAYLKJIIT   LAND. 


sontative  tliaii  tlic  huiintT  of  Eiii>ljiiid  had  found  in  tlie 
j)oison  of  this  hoastino',  swai»'i»erini>',  insolent  cockney, 
IMoody  Edwards.  And  so  tlie  crowd  took  up  tlie  cry 
of  Cand)iidi>e  Jack,  prompted  thereto  hy  the  sense  of 
liunior  and  the  dishke  of  the  cockney,  and  yelled, 
'  Into  the  Fraser  witl.  him  !  Cool  him  down  !  Teach 
him  manners  !  lie  shall  swear  hy  the  Stars  and  Stripes, 
or  drown  ! '  And  then  the  crowd  iiave  one  snri»e,  and 
u[»war(l  the  cockney  was  swung',  and  down  to  the  river 
they  rushed  him,  and  into  the  dei)tli  of  the  cold,  icy 
river,  that  river  that  never  was  warm  and  never  will 
warm  until  the  elements  melt,  they  plung'ed  him. 

"  ]3ut  underneath  and  within  the  punk  of  his  cock- 
neyism,  untouched  hy  the  rot  of  the  surface,  was  a 
sound  streak  of  old  English  oak.  For  as  the  hia',  red 
face  came  out  of  the  ice-cold  tide,  he  hlew  like  a  por- 
poise and  yelled  again,  — 

"  '  Urrah  for  the  tlao-  of  Hold  Ilinoland  !  ' 

"  '  Down  with  him  !  Down  with  him  again  ! '  yelled 
the  crowd  to  Blarney  Pat  and  Confederate  Dick  who 
had  hini  in  hand.  And  downward  they  plunged  lum  ; 
down  into  the  coldness  of  death,  that  glacial  cold  in 
that  river  of  glaciers  which  chills  and  whitens  (piick 
and  sure  for  the  grave.  Downward  they  sent  him  and 
again,  as  he  came  to  the  surface,  he  feehly  sputtered, — 

"  '  Urrah  —  for  —  the  —  flag  —  of  —  Hold  —  Hin 
—  gland  !  ' 

"  By  this  tune  it  was  evident  that  Bloody  Edwards 
was  soher,  sober  as  a  man  who  from  birthday  had  never 
touched  ale,  and  that  it  was  not  the  reckless  bra- 
vado born  of  lijpior,  but  the  bull-dog  grit  which  made 


i 


liANFF. 


•205 


Poietiers,  Cressy,  and  Waterloo  wliat  tlicy  stand  for, 
which  hidd  him  to  the  hno  whose  uhastlv  ^vhite  men 
(h'ead,  so  stiffly  —  tlie  indomitable  English  grit  that 
was  in  him. 

"  And  this  it  was  wliieh  won  on  the  crowd  and  even 
on  the  two  men  who  had  twice  plnnged  liin\  into  that 
deatli-C(dd  cnrrent,  that  current  which  never  yet  gave 
hack  to  light  of  day  a  hody  that  once  touched  its  bot- 
tom. For  Confederate  Dick,  as  he  looked  into  the 
big,  red  English  face  that  now^  lay  drooping  weakly  on 
the  bull-like  neck,  exclaimed  in  sheer  disgust,  — 

"  "^  Curse  the  En<>lisli  fool,  he  won't  give  in  ! '  Then 
up  s})oke  Bangor  Harry,  as  he  thrust  himself  to  the 
front  of  the  surging  crowd. 

"•  ••  Boys,  the  darned  fool  is  of  the  same  1)1()()(1  with 
us  if  he  is  beefy  built  ;  for  his  grit  proves  it.  The 
red  flag  he  'd  die  for  owned  the  continent  belori'  the 
Stars  and  Stripes  split  it.  And  the  two  own  the  con- 
tinent still  betwixt  them,  and  shall  own  it  forever,  by 
Heaven  !  Three  cheers  for  the  red  ifag  of  England, 
the  old  mother-land  of  us  all.'  And  suddenly  out  of  the 
throats  of  the  six  hundred  men  who  had  swarmed  over 
the  border  searching  for  oold,  above  whose  heads 
floated  the  little,  cheap  fifteen  by  twenty  bunting  with 
its  stars  bleached  and  its  stripes  all  faded,  there  burst 
as  hearty  a  cheer  foi-  the  cross  of  St.  George  as  ever 
Enolish  gunners  sei;t  from  bloody  Eni>lish  decks  when 
through  the  snu)ke  t!iey  saw  their  foeman's  flag  come 
floating  down. 

"  Then  out  of  the  water  they  lifted  the  cockney,  they 
rolled   him   and   rubbed   him,  and  twenty  flasks  were 


<«*  It!  • 


m 


■''m 


20G 


DAYLKJIIT  LAND. 


[1  1 

f! 


'i    f 


■;! 


■t  • 


tossed  tlii()iii»li  the  air  to  the  men  who  had  hun  in 
hand.  Then  they  took  the  ilag-,  —  Camhrid*»e  Jack 
was  the  man,  —  and  bent  it  to  the  halyards,  side  hy  side 
with  the  Stars  and  Stripes,  and  they  hoisted  the  two 
with  loud  cheers. 

" '  Divil  take  the  rag- ! '  said  Bhirney  Pat  as  lie 
pulled  lustily  away  at  the  halyards.  '  Divil  take  the 
rag,  but  the  b'y  that  won  Waterloo  was  born  nigh 
KiUarney  ! ' 

"  But  this  was  not  all,  for  a  strange  thing  happened, 
strange  enough  at  any  time,  but  doubly  so  happeninj^ 
at  that  very  moment.  Scarcely  had  the  cheering  died 
than  along  the  river's  farther  bank  there  came  a  cir- 
cling wind,  marking"  its  progress  with  dust,  dead  leaves, 
and  withered  grasses,  Avhicli  at  its  touch  sprang  upward 
into  air.  Across  the  rushing  river,  across  the  Bar,  it 
ran  its  circling  course,  jumped  the  dry  bank  and  rushed 
across  the  bend,  and  in  its  career  struck  full  and  fair 
the  staff  from  which  the  kindred  banners  waved  ;  out 
of  their  fastenings  tore  them,  and,  twined  together, 
blent  as  one,  sent  them  soaring  upward  through  the 
sunshine  toward  the  blue  sky  and  the  white  summits 
of  the  Canon,  eight  thousand  feet  above  the  throng  of 
swarthy,  scarred,  and  startled  faces  gazing'  at  them. 

"  Thus  in  silence  stood  the  camp.  Not  a  sound  was 
heard  save  the  rush  of  water  as  it  whirled  around  the 
Bar  or  fretted  along  the  shifting  edges  of  the  golden 
beach  below.  Spellbound  and  marveling  at  such  strange 
hap,  their  jests  all  checked,  their  rude  talk  silenced, 
they  stood  at  gaze,  their  eyes  fixed  on  the  flags  as  they 
went  up  and  onward,  lifted  higher  and  higher  into  the 


L 


I      ■!'  f 


IJANKF. 


207 


3ed, 
liey 
the 


blue.  Still  upward  and  omvaid  they  soared ;  and  not 
until  they  were  to  tlie  eye  hut  a  Heck  of*  eoh)!',  not 
until  that  Heck  ol  color  had  touched  the  level  of  the 
icy  peaks  and  the  sununit  line  of  snow,  not  until  the 
winds  which  pour  forever  over  them  had  cau<»ht  the 
flag's  and  they  were  about  to  disappear,  borne  on  by 
winds  which  flow  forever  round  the  world,  was  that 
solemn  silence  broken.  But  as  the  blended  flai»s,  now 
but  a  speck  of  color,  were  about  to  fade  forever  from 
their  gazing  eyes,  the  voice  of  Bangor  Harry  rose 
strong  and  clear,  with  the  genuine  Yankee  nasal  struck 
clean  through  the  words  :  — 

"'/7/?>r  darned  if  God  AhnUjJittj  hfiHii't  joined 
thviii  two  fl(i(js  to(jetJier  !  '  " 

The  Man  from  New  Hampshire  Avas  mightily  stirred 
by  the  recitation,  and  when  he  lifted  himself  from  his 
chair,  and  standing  erect,  swung  his  white  beaver  over 
his  head  and  cried,  "  Hurrah  for  the  fla""  of  Old  Eng- 
land,  the  mother-land  of  us  all  !  "  the  great  veranda 
trembled  to  the  roar  of  the  applause  which  burst  from 
the  laughing,  cheering  throng. 

Then 

"  Music  arose  with  its  vohiptuous  swell. 

Soft  eyes  looked  love  tf)  eyes  that  sjiake  a<»:iin. 
And  all  went  merry  as  a  marriage  hell." 

The  long,  wide  piazzas  made  such  an  ideal  ball-room  as 
is  seldom  seen 

"  When  youth  and  pk^isure  meet 
To  eliase  the  glowinj;'  hours  with  flying  feet," 


1 


*Mi    *. 


It. 


■!l 


;M'h; 


1|-i  I 


^'W''  p 


J  ,.  '■ 


ULI8 


DAYLIGHT  LAND. 


m:: 


m 


tor  above  thcin  tlic  hluc  star-rrcltcd  lioavoii  was  for  a 
roof,  and  tlio  free,  odor-lillcd  l)i('('/('  ol'  t\\o  inouiitains 
ii'ave  to  tlio  AvaltzL'is  sucli  air  as  eaijfk's  hroatlio.  Be- 
iicatli  their  feet  the  polished  lh)or,  under  tlie  elec- 
tric rn;hts,  shoni^  like  i;roimd  of  i;lass  ;  upon  the  hills 
and  into  the  valley  the  moon  poured  its  soft  lii;ht, 
while  to  the  nuisie  of  the  hand  the  Falls  far  below 
added  its  steady  roar — a  heavy  monotone  of  power 
sol'tened  hy  distanee.  Into  the  solenni  solitude  of  na- 
ture, into  the  undisturbed  silenee  of  a<;('s,  within  the 
enclosure  of  mountains  old  as  the  world,  whose  sum- 
mits were  white  with  snow  that  fell  in  the  morniui;'  of 
Time  and  had  never  nu'lted,  man — the  social  man  — 
had  burst,  erected  his  palace,  s[)read  a  table  of  ban(juet, 
and  suuHuoned  nuisic  and  ])leasure  to  the  feast.  Tlie 
strength  and  _i>raee  of  form,  the  i>leam  of  silks,  the  How 
of  soft-toned  draperies,  the  Hash  of  i>enis,  the  loveliness 
of  snowy  necks  and  arms,  the  i»loAvini»'  cheek,  the 
laui»liin<;'  lip,  the  buzz  of  ha})py  talk,  the  harmonies  of 
music  —  all  were  here,  makini>'  a  rare,  sweet,  bri<;ht 
picture  of  human  liapphiess.  So  passed  the  hours 
until  the  dawn  oave  rosy  simial  for  retirini''  and  the 
first  "  American  Nit>ht"  at  ]5anlf  ended,  as  it  should, 
in  a  lovely  mornhii»". 


IU\ 


•-!t 


s  for  a 
intniiis 
'.  Bc- 
u  elcc- 
lio  liills 
:  lii;lit, 

■    1)('1()\V 

j)()\vt'r 

of  iia- 

liin  tlie 

H!    Slllll- 

iiiii*;'  of 
man  — 
aiKpU't, 
:.  The 
ho  flow 
[Voliiu'ss 
t'k,  tlu' 
)iiii's  of 
biit;Jit 

llOlll'S 

lul  t\\v 
lioiild, 


I   ! 


t     I 


u 


1 1 


««tS*J>rt' 


ON     THE    TOTE    ROAD. 


tJ' 


i:i 


im 


V  'A' 


CIIAPTEU  XI. 

NAMELKSS    MOUNTAINS. 

"  Hills  piled  on  hills,  on  mmiiitaius  inoiiiitains  lie." 

rllOiVr  the  Ga[),  but  a  little  Avay  lievond 
j^f"   the  heautit'ul  Kananaskis  Falls,  to  Yale 
at  the  outlet  of  the  celebrated   Fraser 


Caiioii  is  nearly  five  hundred  miles,  and 
^     ,r  it  is  a  very  moderate  statement  to  say 

that  nowhere  else  on  this  continent  or 
in  Europe  can  the  tourist  see  from  his  parlor  car  such 
a  ma<>nilicent  exhibition  of  mountain  scenery.  Here 
is  a  section  of  the  transcontinental  journey  in  respect 
to  which  the  traveler  can  experience  no  (lisaj)point- 
ment.  It  is  not  only  that  he  is  constantly  runnin<»' 
alonji'  the  base  of  mountains  of  oiwintic  size  and  im- 
mense  altitude  by  which  he  is  stinuilated  and  impressed, 
but    these    mountains  are  of    every  shape  and    color, 


ill 


^        1  ■ 

1 

is 

.  -•  ♦ 

1 

i  ,     i 

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'  i 

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,f 

'vi;"    ;  111  I 


H.,i 


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1 ,1 


f 


:  til  1 

Ml 


i:h 


-  \    rI  -   . , 


■  ¥  <  ■ 


■>  it 


Q 


i^I't 


<  'I  !i  a 

am 


y 


21-2 


DAYI.KillT    LAM). 


!»l 


prt'st'iit  tlicmst'lvcs  to  the  eye  in  :in  inliiiitc  variety  «»t' 
ai>|K'Ui'iiiici',  and  aic  iiidividiiali/ctl  l>y  stroni;,  novel, 
and  ini|)()sin«»'  eliaraeteiisties.  Here  stands  one  of  sneli 
immense  l»nlk  and  l»eii;lit,  holdini;'  such  u  relation  to 
the  line  oi'  travel,  that  it  dominates  the  landscape  and 
tills  the  <;azer's  hori/on  from  edi;(!  to  e(l«»'e.  Passing;' 
this  monstrous  ohstruction  to  the  vision,  the  eye  sud- 
denly heholds  a  rann'e  pinnacled  with  eternal  snow  and 
flashing.*'  crests  of  ice,  whose  hrilliancv  is  the  reflection 
of  a<»'es.  Anon,  he  is  whirled  around  a  curve,  on  a 
track  so  cut  into  the  heetlinj;'  clill's  that  at  a  distance  it 
looks  lik(;  a  dark  thread  s[)un  in  the  air  and  drifted  hy 
the  wind  a«»ainst  the  |)erpendicular  wall,  and  lo,  he  is 
in  the  midst  of  a  hundred  mountains,  tund)led  promis- 
cuously toi»'ether,  a  vast  jund)le  of  chaotic;  misplace- 
ment. At  one  moment  he  is  r(>llini»'  swiftly  down  a 
valley,  as  o'reen  with  s])rinj;ino'  verdure,  as  odorous 
with  flowers,  as  peaceful  and  lonely,  as  the  Ifappy 
Valley  of  Uasselas ;  ahove  it  the  hluest  of  skies  and 
the  l)ri«»htest  of  suns,  with  a  Hashhij;'  river  rnnninj»- 
with  nnisical  rip])lin<»s  throu<»li  its  centre  ;  and  at  the 
next,  the  train  is  <»ropin«»'  its  way  alonj;*  a  narrow  g()ri>e 
cut  sheer  throui»h  a  mountain  ranoe  at  the  level  of  its 
base,  with  the  black,  rocky  sides  risinjj^  abruptly  thou- 
sands of  feet  on  either  hand,  a  river  of  vast  volume, 
outracino-  the  train  at  his  side,  here  rnnning"  in  white 
flights,  there  whirlinj^  in  dark  pools,  while  all  the  black 
air  is  filled  with  its  hoarse  complainin<»'  and  explosions 
of  thunderons  ra<;v.  Now  it  is  a  lonely  lake,  with  its 
beaches  and  its  sed<i;es,  its  islands  and  its  reflections  of 
sky  and  cloud  and  mountain,  and  its  signs  of  swim- 


N  A  M  K I .  KSS  M( )  I  NT  A 1 N  S. 


2i;j 


iuiii<;*,  flyint!^  life,  wliicli  ('li;inns  liiiii  ;  jinoii  lio  i>';izos 
outraiiccd,  Jima/od,  lircathlcss,  ut  a  «»la('i('r  liaiiL»iii«;'  in 
Avliito,  j;r('('ii,  Hasliin*;'  lovi'lincss,  ton  tlioiisand  t'ect 
above  liim,  or  looks  with  awo  upon  a  valley  Ix'twccn 
two  lanaes  filled  for  miles  and  nnles  with  snow  to  tin? 
very  |)eaks,  as  he  rcnienduTs  that  th(«  human  race  is  not 
so  old  as  that  thawless  field  hefore  him.  Sueh  another 
five  hundred  miles  of  travel ini;-  is  not  to  he  had  on  the 
face  of  the  earth.  If  this  strikes  the  reader  as  an  ex- 
•looeration,  as  it  may  many  —  I  can  only  say  that  it  is 
not.  It  is  a  sim[)l(!  statement  of  an  extraordinary  fact 
—  a  statement  which  every  traveler  whose  knowledoe 
of  the  <>h))te  is  adecjuate  for  (•oni[)arison,  who  has  heen 
over  the'ie  tive  hnndred  miles,  will  confirm.  He  who 
journeys  from  Kananaskis  Falls  to  Fraser  CaTion  will 
experience  sensations  —  however  />/r/.s'r  with  world- 
wide travel  he  may  he — a«»ainst  which  his  indiuated 
nerves  are  not  ])ro(;f. 

We  four  —  the  Inseparables,  as  the  Man  from  New 
Hampshire  facetiously  called  us  —  left  Banff  with 
hri<»ht  {"iticipations.  Onr  eyesAvere  as  open  to  see  and 
our  spirits  as  buoyant  as  if  we  Avere  boys.  We  had 
had  a  AA'eek  of  pleasure  at  the  "  Palace  of  Delioht,"  as 
the  Jud<>\^  poetically  named  the  hu«»'e  hostelry  amonjj^ 
the  mountains,  and  (mr  last  ni<;lit  had  been  one  of  rol- 
lickino'  enjoyment.  In  our  dis])()sitions  Ave  tv])ed  the 
best  habit  of  Americans  when  traveliui;'  —  the  habit 
of  self-surrender  to  the  enjoyment  of  the  hour.  There 
can  be  no  question  on  one  point  concernin<»"  our  coun- 
trymen. They  are  the  best  travelers  in  the  Avorld, 
not  because  they  travel  the  most  and  sjjend  money  the 


?%.1.' 


1}   i. 


l! 


•  1    I- 


Mi  i 


Ijrt 


'J.- I: 


21 1 


DAVLKilir    LAND. 


« t 


I'ltrst    wlu'ii  joiinu'vint;',    Imt   hrcauso    tlicy    i^ct    iiioro 
l\ii(>Nvl(>(l^'C)  and  liappiiicss  out  of  travel  than  anv   otliui* 


hcopic 


T\ 


10   Niconvcnicnces    and    (Icpi  i\ations   uliirli 


roiio'luMi  tlio  tcniiicr  of  the  avciau'c  Mnulislniian  only 
([uickcii  tlut  liiinior  of  the  Vanlvco  and  s(iii|>lv  hiiu  with 
cntcrtainnu'nt.  lie  travels  as  a  hird  Hies,  ntili/in-;  to 
is  enjovnient  the  opposition  of  adverse*  enrn-nts,  feeds 


li 


eontentecllv  on  the  win<>',  and  sleeps  resttnllv  on  anv 
peieh  to  which  tlu!  flaws  or  whirlwinds  <d'  nnlneUv  hap- 
penini;s  hv  day  or  ni«;ht  have  gustily  hlown  him. 
The  woild  likes  him  and  he  likes  the  world,  and  hence 
ho  Hiids  welcome  everywhere,  and  the  welcome  he  j;ets 


he    tl 


ior(Ui<4lily   enjoys. 


Ivil 


Hi  a  snai 


1,   1 


le    carries    iiis 


home  around  with  him  on  his  hack,  and  easilv  adjusts 
himself  to  any  condition  of  shine  or  shade.  Tins  hap- 
piest mortal  one  can  meet  with  is  an  American  in  his 
travels.  Speakin«»'  hut  one  lani>iiai;e  and  that  indilVer- 
ently  well,  ..e  hohnohs  cheerfully  with  all  nations,  uses 
with  the  couraii'e  of  ionoraiUH!  all  lani>uai»es,  and 
makes  fast  friends  wherever  he 


i  iioes. 


We  started  from  Banlf  in  the  hest  of  s])irits.  Had 
"we  heen  in  sond)re  mood,  even,  the  extraordinary  vision 
of  heauty  and  suhlimity  we  helield  would  have  s[)eedily 
brij;htened  it,  for  the  sun  was  just  risino'  a])ove  the 
eastern  mountains,  and  the  freshness  of  morninj;'  was 
on  the  world  and  in  the  air  around  us.  Our  course  lay 
ah)n<>-  the  pehhly  hanks  of  the  sparklino*  Bow  and  u])  u 
forest  valley.  We  skirted  the  Vermilion  Lakes  and 
ran  ah)n<»'  in  full  view  of  Mount  Massive  and  the  snowy 
peaks  above  Simpson's  Pass.  We  whirled  around  a 
curve,  and  the  eastern  view  of  Pilot  Mountain  flashed 


XAMKLKSS   M(HNTAINS. 


•J  1.1 


wliitciv    iipnii     IIS,  ;in(l    tiicii    in    ,i    inuinciit     tlic   (\'istl(> 

iutiipcd  into  sii;'lit,  mikI 

\\i'     stii(lit'<|     with     (!»'- 

Iii;lit«'(|  eves  its  inii;lity 

|H('('i|>i(U'.  its  ('mli;ittl«M| 


1 

W 

.^i' 

1  i 

<  1 
II 

\ 

■::r 

iJ 

21() 


DAVLKIHT    I. AM). 


■  '  V  ;,    » 


«'" 


m 


tain  ill  ii  small  lako-liko  itool  Iviiio-  waveloss  at  its  base, 
"  Jii(l<»e,  how  old  are  voii  this  inoiiiiiii>' ?  " 

"Sixteen,  —  only  sixteen,  thank  God  !  "    he  cried. 

"  This  is  my  hist  vacation  ont  ot  Darmouth/'  ex- 
claimed Colonel  Gotl'e ;  and  he  s\vuni>"  his  hat  and 
yelled  like  a  freshman  after  miraculously  passini;-  liis 
first  term  examination. 

We  were  all  looking-  for  the  fii'st  glacier. 

"  There  it  is  !  "  1  cried  suddenly  ;  and  I  j)ointed 
through  the  <»ap  towards  the  lofty  peak  of  Mount  Hec- 
tor. 

Like  a  river  it  lay,  —  a  river  at  full  How,  which  had 
been  frozen  solid  as  it  rolled  omvard  and  downward  ; 
frozen  solid  and  broken  off,  leaving-  oidy  a  crystallized 
section  exposed  to  the  eye. 

It  was  white,  with  green  lights  shot  through  its  frac- 
tured and  curved  extremity,  crescent  sha})ed  at  the 
end ;  a  monstrous  motion  suddenly  solidified  as  it 
])lung'ed  downward,  and  fixed  forever  in  the  spot  Avhere 
it  liung-  suspended  high  up  and  far  off  in  the  air. 
Above  the  forest,  above  the  great  bulk  of  the  moun- 
tain, from  the  very  peak,  hung  that  strange,  monunjeu- 
tal  a})])earance,  a  miracle  of  nature,  a  mystery  of  the 
elements,  a  wonder  to  the  tourist,  like  the  vision  of  a 
j)oet  or  a  dream  of  uneasy  slumber.  Glacier  after  gla- 
cier Ave  saw  after  that  as  we  rolled  onward  through  this 
region  of  marvelous  a])pearances,  this  land  of  enchant- 
ment, many  larger,  many  higher,  many  more  lovely, 
more  imposing,  but  nime  of  the  hundreds  we  looked 
upon  Liter  impressed  us  more  powerfully  or  fixed  them- 
selves with  deeper  impression   upon   the  memory  than 


li 


'1-  i»-la- 
[h  this 
•liaiit- 
ovely, 
ooked 
Itliein- 
tlian 


CATHEDRAL    PEAK. 


-,  I 


•■*  h 


■I  t 


1  *      ■   ' 


Mil 
'.ill 


:.  ■  « 


!!■     : 


■! 


•  r*. 


I;-" 


^t! 


i#.; 


*    1 


NAMELESS  MOUNTAINS. 


211) 


this  first  one  we  saw  eliuined  to  the  crest  of  Mount 
Hector. 

We  were  now  nearing  the  siinimit.  The  j^rade  rose 
steeply.  The  huge  en<»ine  clonil)  lahoriously  upward. 
It  hreathed  heavily^  like  a  cho})per  in  prolonged  eilort, 
when  his  axe  cuts  to  the  centre  of  the  tree  and  with 
(piickening- hlood  and  persistent  strokes  he  delivers  each 
successive  hlow  more  fiercely.  The  dill's  panted  hack 
to  it.  Now  and  then  its  circular  feet  slipped,  hut  it 
clung  desperately  to  the  rails. 

"  That  engine  has  good  grit,"  said  Mr.  Pepperell. 
"  How  it  hano's  to  it." 

"  I  feel  as  if  I  would  like  to  get  out  and  push,"  re- 
plied the  Judge. 

"  Do  it.  Judge,"  said  the  Man  from  New  Hampshire. 
"  I  '11  sit  on  this  camp  stool  and  hold  your  coat." 

"Colonel  Gofii'e,"  returned  the  Judge  sternly,  "the 
Court  fines  you  a  Reina  Victoria  for  that  contenn)tu- 
ous  remark." 

"  All  the  sentences  of  this  Court  end  in  smoke,  I 
notice,"  retorted  the  Colonel,  as  he  handed  the  Judge 
his  cigar  case. 

"  Here  we  are  at  Summit  Lake,"  T  exclaimed  ;  and 
even  as  I  spoke  the  engine  ceased  to  pant,  and  the  train 
hegan  to  ease  itself  along  swiftly. 

How  beautiful  is  a  pool  among  the  mountains ! 
Small  as  it  may  he,  how  it  can  collect  and  refiect  the 
great  world  above  and  around  it !  It  may  not  be  as 
big  as  a  cliff,  and  yet  a  hundred  cliffs  are  in  it.  A 
s'ngle  pine  may  bridge  it,  nevertheless  it  acconnnodates 
miles  up(m  miles  of  forest.     Small  as  it  is,   the  great 


■    1  ■ '  ( 


220 


DAVl.KiHT   LAND. 


II 


sun  comes  Jind  bathes  in  its  (lei)th.  Acres  of  clouds 
float  through  it.  The  sky,  the  numberless  hills  with 
all  their  countless  trees,  the  mountains  so  vast,  their 
innumerable  })eaks,  —  Avithin  its  scant  space  all  are 
oronped  and  none  are  crowded.  Sweet  miracle  of  the 
woods,  placid  mirror  of  the  hills  and  skies,  gentle  eye 
of  the  forest  upon  whose  clear  retina  is  focused  the 
sublimities  of  heaven  and  the  beauties  of  surrounding 
earth,  how  often  hast  thou  lost  me  game  and  sport 
because  thy  loveliness  held  me  pensive  at  thy  grassy 
rim  ! 

"  I  wish,"  cried  the  Judge,  "  I  wish  I  could  stay  a 
week  here  and  do  nothing  but  sit  on  the  shore  of  that 
little  lake  and  gaze  into  its  dei)tlis." 

"  And  I  ^Msh  I  could  be  the  artist  to  sketch  you  in 
that  position,"  said  Colonel  Gott'e  dryly.  "  If  I  should 
put  you  in  the  foreground  you  would  hide  the  whole 
lake." 

Downward  we  rolled.  We  glided  smoothly  onward 
as  a  wino-  in  easv  fliiiht  cleaves  the  air. 

"  This  is  the  poetry  of  motion,"  cried  the  Judge. 
"  We  are  floating  around  this  mountain's  verge  as  if 
we  were  in  a  balloon." 

"  Look  at  this  !  "  Mr.  Pepperell  exclaimed.  "  Here 
is  a  picture  that  money  can't  buy." 

We  Avere  crossing  the  gorge  of  the  Wapta  River  and 
the  sublime  scenery  Avliich  characterizes  this  section 
Avas  opening  up  ahead  of  us.  The  train  was  running 
very  slowly,  creeping  firmly  but  carefully  along.  It 
seemed  to  be  conscious,  and  to  be  clinging  tightly  and 
safely  to  the  mountain  around  whose  aAvtul  curvature 


■  <<H 


NAMELESS   MOUNTAINS. 


221 


Ji  suo-- 


it  was  inakin<»;  its  way  witli  practiced  toi'titu<le. 
j»'este(l  a  sailor  busily  knottiuo-  a  reef  at  the  yard's  end. 
It  is  a  fri<»litf'ul  suspension,  but  safe  —  to  liini.  At  I., 
riolit  of  us  the  mountain  sloped  downward  sharply  a 
clean  thousand  feet.  To  the  left  it  rose  nearly  sheer 
ujiward  ei«»ht  times  as  far.  A  black  cloud  smothered 
its  sunnnit  frcjui  a  hundred  <»azini»-  eyes.  Within  its 
envek)i)ino'  blackness  a  <»lacier  lay  white,  cold,  and 
pulseless  in  its  eternal  swoon.  Suppose  it  slionld  be 
suddenly  sliocke<l  into  life  and  motion  and  pbini>e 
Avildly  downward  !  How  it  fascinates  you  to  iniai^ine 
the  terrible  when  you  are  safe  ! 

To  the  north  a  valley,  wide,  far-reachino-,  inunense, 
a  landscai)e  in  itself,  luiexplored,  stretched  away  in 
ma<;nificent  perspective  to  distant  peaks,  white  with 
snow  that  will  never  melt.  Far  up  this  vjiiley,  lifted 
hi<>'li  among-  nameless  summits  standing-  like  grouj)ed 
spear  })()ints,  was  a  glacier,  wide  as  a  frozen  sea,  deep 
as  an  ocean,  unvisited  as  yet  by  man,  half  of  it  in  black 
shadow,  half  flashing  with  blinding  whiteness  under  the 
sun,  a  mute  challenge  to  the  courage,  the  skill,  and  the 
science  of  the  continent  to  come  and  measure  and 
name  it. 

Ahead  of  us  Mount  Field  reared  high  its  black  sum- 
mit. Then  rose  Cathedral  Mount  upon  us,  faded  from 
sight,  and  came  again  into  view  as  we  glided  onward. 
A  majestic,  solemn,  suggestive  presentation  of  massive 
bulk  and  altitude  it  made,  standing  out  in  clear, 
sharply  edged  outlines  against  the  blue  sky.  While 
above  all,  loftier,  nobler,  more  varied  and  impressive, 
rose  the  vast  mass  known  as  Mount  8te])hen. 


,     .}, 


H 


:>' 


MmU- 


|fr|  ;  I 


I  i  4.. ,  ■ 


1 


I,' 


ft;    I 
111    ^^    ^ 


'f-! 


*>»>•> 


DAYLKiirr    LAM). 


None  may  (leseril)o  this  iiioimtaiii.  It  is  not  liko  its 
fellows  round  about  it.  It  is  not  like  eonnuon  moun- 
tains. It  has  an  individuality  all  its  own.  Our  artist 
has  caui»ht  its  spirit  and  oiven  a  resend)lanee  —  hut  at 
what  a  remove  t'lom  the  real  Mount  Stephen  itself.     It 


is  not  a  mountain  to  ])e  put  in  a  hook,  to  l)e  printed  on 
a  pai>'e,  to  he  huno-  on  a  Avail.  S(mie  mountains  lend 
themselves  kindly  to  such  patronizino-  treatment,  hut 
Mount  Stephen  is  not  of  this  sort.  It  cannot  ])e  trans- 
lated from  the  wilderness  and  the  sky  on  to  canvas.  It 
cannot  be  snatched  from  its  envelopment  of  clouds  and 


NAMKLKSS   MolNTAIXS. 


22:] 


liuiiL,"  fi'(nu  u  |)('«»'  on  ;i  parlor  wall.  It  cannot  l>o 
coaxed  from  its  native  sunshine  and  slii[)|)ed  to  Hoston 
per  express,  it  is  u  mountain  to  «>o  to,  to  visit,  to  see 
brilliantly  revealed  in  the  sunlii»ht,  to  ^aze  at  dindy 
outlined  in  the  dark,  to  beliohl  in  the  li^'lit  of  dawn,  in 
the  red  of  sunset,  under  the  stars  of  ni«;ht,  Avhen  the 
njoon  clothes  it  in  Avhite  splendor  from  sumnut  to  base 
line.  Go  and  see  Mount  Stephen  so  and  you  shall  find 
in  the  vision  the  memory  of  a  lifetime. 


r  » 


Mr 


;i 


f  1:  I 


H   i 


T  1 


'If-: 


ri 


CHAPTER   XII. 

SAJJr.ATH    AM()N(;    TlIK    .MOl'NTAINS. 

T  Avas  tlie  Sal)l)iitli   day  and  wo  wore 
^itl^   at  Fit'ld.     Witli   us  were  a  company, 
tourists  like  ourselves,  who  had   de- 
cided to  spend  our   Sahhath  anion<( 
the   mountains,   makinj;"  of  it  a  day 
of   rest    in    truth.      And    if    anion"* 
the  mountains,  where  better  than  at 
Field,  under  the  shadow  of  Mount  Stephen,  and  with 
a  multitude  of  majestic  altitudes  all  around  us. 

The  afternoon  was  well  advanced,  and  all  of  us,  ([uite 
an  audience  in  luunhers,  were  <>r()uped  on  the  ])iazza, 
when  we  saw  a  "entleman  strolliMU"  down  the  track  to- 
ward  the  liotel.  Pie  was  tall,  bronzed,  and  had  an 
Al[)ine  knapsack  at  his  back  and  a  note-book  in  his 
hand. 

"  There !  there  comes  the  cleravman  we  have  been 


LI 


\u  at 
with 


([iiite 
hiazza, 
•k  to- 
l  an 


a( 


liii   Ills 


h 


f    I 


V 


t^l' 


li.  • 


lit''."   * 


111^ 


'if- 


bet' 


n 


f: 


fK   f 


;t 


:-^r 


:;  ) 


SAIiUATII    AM(>N(i     rilK    MOl'MAIN'S. 


0»J7 


praying'  ^<»i'  :ill  <'ii>')  '  cried  a  yoimj;-  lady  to  her  com- 
panion, at  my  oll>o\v.  "  Tlu'io  coniL's  our  (•k'r<;yman, 
and  now  wo  ran  have  a  i'('«»ular  service;  won't  that  l)e 
nice!"  And  her  pink  pahns  met  in  a  way  to  express 
tlie  fervor  of  her  rehj;ious  enthusiasm. 

'*  Jennie,  dear,"  said  her  com[)anion,  a  motherly 
lookinj^"  lady,  "  you  are  always  junipino- to  your  con- 
clusions. How  do  vou  know  the  iientlciuan  is  a  clei'u'V- 
man  at  all  ?  " 

"  Ah,  1  know  he  is,"  she  reiterated  with  emphasis. 
'*  Hut  how  do  you  know  ?  "  the  other  insisted. 
*' Well,   hecause  —  hecause  —  he    don't    look   a   hit 
like  one  !  "   she  re}>lied. 

Nevertheless,  in  spite  of  the  youni»"  lady's  assertion, 
the  j^entlenian  who  was  slowly  approaehin<»'  us  did  look 
scmiewhat  like  a  cler^jj-yman.  And  when  he  had  joined 
us  and  we  had  eno-aoed  him  in  conversation,  our  im- 
])ressi()n  as  to  his  clerical  status  was  <leepened,  for  he 
spoke  with  much  feelinjr  and  with  true  spiritual  dis- 
cernment of  the  religious  relations  of  nature.  But 
whatever  doubt  remained  was  suddenly  dissipated  when 
he  opened  his  knapsack,  for  as  he  did  so  the  leaves 
of  a  manuscript  closely  and  careful  written  were  plainly 
discernihle. 

"  My  dear  sir,"  said  the  Judp^e,  "  I  cannot  but  con- 
sider your  coming  as  providential.  This  is  the  Lord's 
day,  and  here  we,  a  company  of  Christian  wanderers, 
find  ourselves  spendino*  the  holy  day  amonc^  the  ever- 
lasting hills.  We  desired  to  hold  a  religious  service, 
but  are  as  a  flock  without  a  shepherd,  for  there  is  not 
a  clergyman   among  all  this  large  number  of  tourists. 


i 


mi 


P! 


Hilf  1 


'■Ml 

•  M  V  ■; 


1     |. 


22S 


D.WLHiin    I, AM). 


!  I 


^\ 


\\[\\  now  wo.  Mi'c,  il  I  iiiistMlu'  iinl,  (Icli vi'icil  iroiii  unr 
(lilcmiuii,  lor  you,  iiiv  <l«':ir  sir,  an^  —  an'  you  not  a 
('l('it;vnian  ?  " 

••  I  am  soiTvtliat  I  am  <'om|M'll»'(l  (o  (llsM|)|M)int  von," 
answt'iH'd  tlir  man,  "  Itnt  I  :im  not  a  flt'i|L;vman." 

'•  Not  a  clcriivman  !  "  cxclanncd  the  tlnd^c  ;  "siirclv, 
sir,  that  mannscript  tlicir  nuist  Ix' "  — 

"  No,  that  is  not  a  sermon,"  intcnnittcd  tlic  strani^cr, 
smilini;'.     "  It  is  oidy  a  >^torv." 

••  I  thini<  a  st<tr\  is  as  n'ood  :is  ;i  sermon,  any  time," 
cried  (he  vonni;'  hidy  who  had  l»een  so  eonlident  tliat 
thi'  new-comer  was  a  clergyman.  "And  il'  it  isn't 
too  awl'nilv  j<dlv,  I  wisli  the  i;'enth'man  wonid  read  it 
to  ns.  Mv  eyes  aciie  from  looking',  and  I  wonId  iiivc 
to  (dose  them  and  see  with  my  ears,  as  papa  says,  tor 
lialF  an  honr." 

'•  Mv  <h'ar  sir,"  ex(daime(l  tlie  .1  nd «;(',"  tlie  yonni»' 
ladv  lias  voiced  my  l'eelini;s  achniraldy  and  I  (hndtt  not 
tlie  wislu's  of  the  company,  and  il'  yonr  story  is  not  of 
too  rn;ht  a  natnre.  I  pray  yon  read  it  to  ns.  and  feel 
tliat  yon  are  doini;-  ns  all  a  ]>ositive  service.  I  can 
])i'omlse  yon,  sir,  an   attentiv*    andience." 

"  Tlu!  story  I  Avonld  read  \on  is  soher  enoni;'h  for 
the  dav."  resjtonded  the  man,  "  and  sn^n'csts  a  theme 
lit  to  he  meditated  on  within  the  shadow  of  these 
awfnl  snrronndini;s  even  ;  nor  will  it  he  of  less  valne 
hecanse  it  is  of  the  natnic  of  a  personal  exjterience. 
If  y(  '  will  arrange!  yoinselves  to  easily  hear  me,  1  will 
ii'ladlv  ri  ad  you  the  story." 

In  a  moiKent  some  lifty  of  us  were  oronped  around 
the  stranger,  tMid  certainly  no  preacher  or  author  ever 


••♦! 


M  uiir 
not    it 

vtm," 

■iurclv, 

tunc, 
it  th.'it 
t  is  n't 
read  it 
lid  liU«> 
ivs,  lor 

voimi;' 

uitt  n(»t 

not  ol' 

I    feci 


n( 


V'A 


can 


h    I 


or 


,1  tlicnu' 
I'    tl 


U'SC 


^s  value 
'licnce. 
,  I  will 


iroiuHl 
lor  cvt'i' 


*  < 


'»< 


ROSS    PEAK. 


'      f 


I 


m 


\m 


SAl'.l'.A'I'II    AM()X(i    TlIK    MOIN  TAIN'S. 


L>:n 


lijul  a  nioro  attentive  aiidiciice  tlian  we  <;ave  him  as 
lie  read  tlu;  straii<;e  tale  ;  and  sniely  it  would  take  a 
lono"  search  to  hnd  a  sermon  weiyhted  with  a  morci 
startlini*-  thouoht.  At  least,  so  many  of  us  said  at  the 
end  ot*  it. 

TIIK   TWO   (IKAVKS. 

It  was  in  the  autumn  of  JS7S,  that  1  found  myself 
ridini;-  throu<»h  that  j)ortion  of  ('anachi  which  horders 
th(^  nortluuii  shore  of  the  Ottawa,  some  hundred  miles 
ahove  its  junction  with  the  St.  Lawrence.  The  d;iy 
was  one  of  a  series  peculiar  to  that  time  of  the  year 
and  that  section  of  the  country.  The  heat  of  sunniier 
had  departed,  chilled  southward  hy  the  advancing- 
frost  which  the  arctic  cold  had  posted  in  advance  to 
<»ive  warnino-  of  its  ap])roach.  ]5ut  in  the  valleys 
and  alono-  the  hedgerows  which  skirted  the  southern 
ex])osure  of  the  mountains,  the  delicious  warmth  still 
lingered,  as  if  loth  to  leave  the  ])leasant  haunts  where 
it  had  so  lon<»-  tarried,  ha])py  in  the  music;  of  the  run- 
nino-  brooks  and  the  birds  that  sanu'  in  the  odorous 
bushes. 

Indeed,  it  seemed  as  if  here  and  there  it  had  deter- 
mined to  resist  its  sava<»(^  foe  ;  for  in  nooks  where  the 
russet  leaves  lay  thickest  and  in  the  wedi>e-like  crevices 
of  ledo-es  it  kept  almost  its  Auoust  warmth,  as  if  it  felt 
safe  to  await  a  fiercer  attack  behind  such  formidable 
barricades. 

I  had  ridden  already  a  <>oodly  distance,  and  neither 
T  nor  my  horse  was  in  a  mood  to  hurry  ;  the  reins  lay 
loosely  on   his  neck,  and  he  picked  his  way  along"  the 


*ff> 


M    < 


.1      l<»  ' 

'•t 
f 


'   U 

I  i: 


ll 


it 


;  J' 


M 


I ' ' 

I.; 


If 


V. 


1' 


.11 


2:52 


DAYLKillT    LAND. 


oTiiss-oTowii  ])iitli  with  the  leisurely  stop  ])eculiar  to 
his  species  when  neitlier  tiieir  iiieliiiation  nor  that  of 
their  riders  uri»e  tlieiii  to  a  faster  «»ait.  Perhaps  he  as 
well  as  1  enjoyed  not  merely  the  slowness  of  the  ])aee, 
but  the  nature  of  the  surroundings  also ;  for  his  lari>e, 
observant  eyes  studied  the  fianiini»'  l)ushes  as  closely 
as  mine,  and  to  his  senses  the  mingled  odors  of  the 
dvinii'  grasses  and  withered  leaves,  blended  with  the 
fraiirance  of  the  everj>Teens  that  live  on  tlir()U<»h  win- 
ter  and  summer  alike,  may  have  been  as  grateful  as 
they  were  to  mine  as  1   breathed  them  in. 

I  had  just  turned  a  curve  in  the  road  and  was  de- 
scendino-  a  gentle  sl()})e  —  a  mountain  on  my  left  and 
a  stretch  of  level  woodland  on  my  right  —  when  1  sud- 
denly came  upon  a  clearing,  of  some  three  acres  in  ex- 
tent, enclosed  by  a  fence.  Age  had  weakened  the 
settings  of  the  ])osts,  and  it  no  longer  kept  the  trueness 
of  the  orio'inal  lines,  but  saojved  and  swaved  at  dif- 
ferent  ])()ints,  while  here  and  there  the  winds  of  winter 
had  blown  sections  of  it  prone  to  the  ground.  The 
grasses  had  grown  through  the  ])ahngs,  and  masses  of 
running  vines  formed  over  them,  whose  leaves  were 
now  aflame  witu  color. 

I  instinctively  checked  my  liorse  to  more  closely  in- 
spect this  unexpected  o])ening  in  the  wo(/ds,  involun- 
tarily looking,  as  I  did  so,  for  the  house  or  the  ruins 
of  the  house  that  one  day  stood,  as  I  naturally  su])- 
posed,  in  the  clearing  ;  and  it  was  not  until  I  had 
quite  reined  my  horse  into  the  cleared  space,  passing 
through  a  gap  which  the  winds  had  made  in  the 
enclosure,  and  looked  the  field  over  more  closely,  that 


(  -S 


lit 


SAHHATII    AMOXC    TIIK    MOIXTAIXS. 


I  (liscenied  that  it  luul  iicvor  Ix'cn  intended  for  liumaii 
hpl)itati()n,  at  least  not  for  tlic  lial)itatioii  of  the  liviiijj;-, 
but  had  ratlier  Imcii  set  apart  for  the  re])()se  of  tlie 
dead.  Tlie  s])a('e,  in  short,  into  ^^hieh  1  had  ri(hh'n, 
■Nvas  a  eeuietery. 

No  sooner  had  I  nuide  tliis  diseoverv  than,  ini])elh'd 
by  curiosity  ii>  part,  and  in  part  by  reverence,  1  (Hs- 
iiiounted,  and    tiivowin«»'  th(^   reins  over  a   post   whicli 


had 


once  been  one 


of  th 


)f  tl 


IV:  piHars  of  the  niani  entnince, 


1  strolled  further  into  the  solenni  field,  Avitli  emotions 
siu'h  as  Avould  be  natural  to  a  man  enterin<>'  a  t»rave- 
yard   thas  suddenly   discovered   in   the   de])ths   of  the 


woods. 


"■  Here,"  1  said  to  myself,  "  the  former  settlers  of 
this  once  inhabited  but  now  deserted  region  lie  buried. 
A  majestic  ])lace  for  a  buiial  oround,  truly  ;  "  and  I 
o'lanced  uinvard  at  the  surroundinii'  mountains  which 
lifted  their  vast  sides  round  about  the  vale.  "  Truly," 
I  continued,  "  here  is  a  tittino-  place  for  the  weary  to 
rest  after  the  trials  and  fatigues  of  life.  The  a^cd 
who  had  hr  o-  borne  the  heat  and  burden  of  the  (hiy 
and  they  Avho  were  suddenly  checked  in  maidiood's 
swift  career,  husband  and  wife.  ])arent  and  child,  all 
could  here  find  the  ])eace  which  comes  after  strife, 
and  that  sweet  rest  which  waits  on  human  toil.  It  is 
pleasant  to  think  that  nature,  after  the  fret  and  fever 
of  life  were  over,  so  kindly  provided  them,  amid  the 
here  they  toiled  and  doubtless  suifered,  a 
place  to  repose." 

idizinti',  I   cast  mv  eves   about  to  discover 


very  scenes  w 


Tl 


ms  mor 


tl 


le  numoer  ani 


dtl 


le  i»r( 


)U1 


)in<r  of  the  oraves,  not  doubt- 


■   I 


•»- 


'^^i 


Ml' 


i 


{•Mi 


ifM'J''  r 


■■  ■  .** 


I'i-v 

1  ■  1  ■  i    M 


].j 


i. ; 


ii 


2U 


DAYLKiHT   LAND. 


ill*;'  1  should  find  many,  and  with  th(M)i  monumental 
evidences,  of  however  luuuhle  a  sort,  that  all'ection  had 
remembered  them  when  tlie}'^  had  passed  away;  but 
to  my  astonishment  I  could  discover  only  two  <]fraves 
within  the  entire  enclosure.  These  were  situated  side 
by  side,  on  a  slioht  elevation  that  swelled  its  sunuuit 
near  the  centre  of  the  enclosure.  Confident  that 
further  searchino-  would  reveal  more  to  me,  I  made  a 
careful  inspection  of  the  field,  until  I  had  traversed  it 
from  coiner  to  corner  and  had  convinced  myself  that 
this  stran«»e  ;.?;raveyard  was  so  not  only  because  of  its 
location,  a  place  set  ai)art  for  the  dead  where  there 
were  none  to  die,  but  also  because,  large  as  it  was,  it 
held  but  two  <^raves. 

"  A  strano-er  oraveyard  than  this,"  I  said  to  mv- 
self,  "  was  never  seen,  for  of  all  the  biu'ial  places  that 
men  ever  set  a[)art,  <)f  such  «>()odly  dimensions  as  this, 
I  doubt  if  there  be  another  on  the  face  or  the  whole 
earth  so  s[)arsely  populated  :  the  tenantry  of  kindred 
fields  is  generally  crowded  enoui»h,  and  he  who  has 
the  fortune  to  occupy  a  place  therein  never  lacks  for 
neighbors.  1  will  approach  the  graves  and  see  what 
memorial  aifectionate  custom  has  traced  upon  these 
lonely  slabs."  So  saying,  I  drew  near  to  the  two  graves 
and  proceeded  to  inspect  them  more  closely. 

They  were  placed  some  eight  feet  ajjart,  both  facing 
to  the  south.  It  was  evident  from  the  size  of  the 
mounds  that  they  had  been  buikled  for  adult  bodies, 
and  ai)parently  near  the  same  time.  The  grasses  had 
matted  thickly  over  both,  and  a  running  vine  whose 
main  root  had  sprung  from  the  earth  etpudistant  be- 


:  :■  i 

H 


SAHHATII   AM()N(J    TIIK    MOl'N  TAINs: 


ri-. 


12:5; 


tween  the  two  liad  sent  u  branch  out  impartially  to- 
ward each.  It  had  grown  so  luxuriantly  that  it  had 
end)raced  either  mound,  and  sent  its  creeping  tendrils 
even  to  the  toj)  of  the  two  short  and  narrow  slabs  of 
plainly-wrought  stone,  such  as  rude  skill  might  easily 
have  (piarried  from  the  ledge  in  the  neigld)oring 
ravine.  It  seemed  as  if  nature  had,  by  the  growth  of 
her  vine,  tenderly  united  in  suggestive  unity  tlie  two 
mounds,  which,  standing  farther  apart  and  without  con- 
nection, would  have  been  lonely  indeed.  "  Surely,"  I 
said  to  myself,  "  this  is  a  ([uaint  and  touching  spec- 
tacle. Only  two  graves  in  all  this  Held,  and  they  lying- 
side  by  side  on  this  little  eminence  and  so  aifectingly 
connected.  Is  there  some  sweet  conscience  in  nature 
which  forbids  her  to  decorate  the  one  and  leave  the 
other  unadorned  ? "  And  I  remend)ered  the  sayiiig 
that  the  rain  falleth  alike  on  the  just  and  unjust. 
"  I  doubt  not,"  I  continued,  "  that  these  two  who  sleep 
here  were  brothers,  wlio  had  nursed  at  one  maternal 
breast ;  who  had  labored  in  this  vale  and  on  these  hills 
side  by  side,  and  who,  struck  down  by  death,  ])erhaps 
simultaneously,  were  brought  by  reverential  hands  in 
the  slow  and  s(demn  fashion  of  the  country  and  with 
priestly  benediction  laid  side  by  side.  Or  perlia|)s  they 
were  two  friends  strongly  attached,  sonu?  David  and 
Jonathan  of  this  forest  lilade,  who,  beint»'  so  closely 
united  in  life  as  to  fiunish  a  proverl)  of  loving  compan- 
ionship, in  death  were  not  divided." 

Filled  with  such  pleasant  imaginings,  I  kneeled  on 
one  of  the  mounds  and  with  mv  hand  uentlv  moved 
aside  the  viney  tracery  that  garnished  its  white  surface 


I!    1: 


if 


!> 

.•,"* 


''U:  ' 


111 
■'^  li 

Hi,' 

•jil  ,■■'■  1 

%  \l  1 


1 
il 


1    '■ 


*    i 

rt  i 


Hff  ■ 


'Ml     : 


a<i>B*^WB!*^KWWWM  w'liiuwyn 


2:U) 


DAYLIGHT  LAND. 


'  f  ■  if   I 


witli  ruddy  ornanuMit,  in  order  to  rend  what  miiilit  be 
car/ed  lu'iicatli. 

'  James  Flynii,  a<>ed  (JO  years,  8  luos.  and  1)  days. 
Born  April  lOtli,  17—.     Died  Nov.  14th,  IS—." 

I  then  turned  toward  the  other  nu)und,  and  kneehnj^ 
on  it  hf'ted  the  vine  from  the  face  of  the  other  shib 
and  read,  — 

"John  Peters,  a«>ed  01  years.  Born  May  19th, 
17—.     Died  Nov.  1-lth,  18—." 

"  Buried  the  same  day,"  I  said,  risinii^  to  my  feet. 
"  Buried  the  same  day,  and  for  these  thirty  years  their 
dust  has  niouhlered  side  hy  side.  Ohl  men  too,  honest 
and  honored,  I  doubt  not :  brotliers  thev  certainlv  ^vere 
not,  but  friends  they  must  have  been,  or  surely  they 
would  iu)t  have  found  such  elose  vicinai»;e  in  death. 
Old  men,  who  had  lived  their  lives  out  until  the  eres- 
cent  of  their  youth  had  come  to  the  full  rounded  orb 
of  its  perfecc  sphere.  Happy  in  having-  outlived  their 
passions  and  tlie  frailties  and  bitternesses  that  eome 
therefrom,  ha])py  indeed  were  they,"  I  added,  ''  in 
having  entered,  before  they  came  to  their  tomb,  that 
j)eace  and  ])le;{santness  of  uu)od  which  give  to  the 
a<»ed  the  chiefest  beautv  of  their  earthlv  life  and  the 
perfect  pre])arati()n  for  the  life  to  come." 

While  1  had  thus  been  jdeasantly  musing  I  had  al- 
most unconsciously  been  walking  toward  my  horse,  and 
with  my  mind  still  filled  with  the  tlioui»ht  of  the  two 
graves  I  had  so  suddenly  found,  and  was  so  soon  to 
leave,  I  i)laced  my  reins  on  the  neck  of  the  animal  and 
my  foot  in  the  stirrup,  saying  as  I  did  so,  "  I  would 
that  I  knew  the  history   of   the  two  graves   thus   so 


\m 


'II 


De 


slab 


''  111 
that 
to  the 
dtl 


le 


a( 


lal- 


l 


le,  aiK 


le  two 

1)011  to 


1  and 
ihl 


wov 


us   so 


ll 


■:*        1.1 


SAHHATII    AMONd    TIIK    MOUNTAINS. 


2:]i) 


stnin<^oly  })l{U'e(l  in  this  (jiiiet  Hold,  and  of  the  two  men 
Avlio  have  sk'j)t  and  are  destined  to  sleej)  so  Iont»'  in 
them  side  hv  side." 

"  1  can  tell  you  the  histoi'v  of  the  two  men  "  — 
I  turned  so  suddenly  at  the  unexpected  sound  of  a 
human  voice  that  the  speaker  was  checked  in  the  midst 
of  the  sentence  he  was  utterinj;".  He  was  a  man, 
old  and  white  headed  and  howed  with  years,  for  he 
carried  a  stall'  in  one  hand  and  was  even  then  leanin<»; 
heavily  upon  it.  I  noticed  also  that  the  hand  that 
"•rasped  the  stick  trend)le(l  and  shook  with  that  j)ecu- 
liar  tremulousness  which  so  often  accom[)anies  the 
weakenini»-  of  muscidar  power.  Was  it  somethinj;'  in 
the  fit  and  color  of  his  oarments,  was  it  soniethin<»" 
in  the  dignity  of  his  mien,  or  was  it  hecause  of  the 
peaceful  expression  of  his  countenance  ?  From  which- 
ever one  of  these  causes,  perhaj)s  from  them  all  com- 
bined, 1  conceived  that  he  bcdono'ed  to  the  cleroy. 

"  Keverend  sir,"  said  I,  releasing'  my  foot  from  the 
stirrup  and  turning"  toward  him,  "  reverend  sir,"  said 
1,  and  1  uncovered  my  head,  "  1  am  journeying  through 
the  country  with  a  companion  who  is  now  on  the  road 
some  miles  behind  me,  and  coming  suddenly  upon  this 
opening,  I  observed  the  two  graves  yonder  and  judged 
that  this  was  a  graveyard.  Moved  by  that  impulse 
common  to  human  hearts  in  so  solenni  u  ])lace,  1  en- 
tered the  enclosure  to  discover  what  memorials  affec- 
tion had  reared  above  those  who  slee]).  But  to  my 
astonishment  1  have  been  able  to  find  only  two  graves 
in  all  the  field,  and  I  was  marvelling,  as  you  inter- 
ru})ted  me,  at  the  strange  spectacle  ;    so  strange  that 


**t 


«i« 


l': 


Sl|| 


'. 


^"i!  I 


(•{, 


!    vj;.;:,| 


i!    ' 


f:  . 


M^h'' 


!  r-  r(  ^ 


W' 


240 


DAYMCIIT    I. AND. 


1  (loiiht  it'  its  LMiUiil  can  Itc  t'ound  in  all  the  world,  th(» 
spcotat'lo  oF  a  j»ravt'yai(l  with  only  two  oraves." 

"1  (l(nil)t  not,"  I't'spoiidcd  the  (»ld  man,  '' that  yonr 
ohscrvation  is  ('oiro(;t,  t'oi-  thonj;h  I  lia\'o  seen  nianv 
<;rav{'yards  niyst'H',  and  helped  to  lay  many  to  sleep 
therein,  I  know  no  other  allotted  to  men's  tinal  repose 
in  which  the  nundjcr  of  those  who  sleep  is  so  small;  " 
and  li(^  added,  ''  1  would  that  these  were  not  here,  for 
•d  sadder  lesson  than  they  teach  has  luver  heen  mv  lot 
to  learn,  and  the  recollection  they  recall,  as  I  hehold 
them  lvin<>"  here  alone,  Forms  one  of  the  saddest  mem- 
ories  of  my  life." 

"  You  speak,  reverend  sir —  for  I  jnd.i'c  you  to  be  a 
clergyman  —  as  if  you  had  knowledi;e  of  them." 

The  old  man  iiaused  a  moment  before  ho  rej)lied. 
His  eyes  were  turned  toward  the  two  graves,  and  in 
them  was  a  far-iiway  look  as  if  they  ran;;'ed  backward 
across  the  dim  distance  of  mauy  years  ;  then  he  added, 
"  I  officiated  at  the  service  when  those  two  oraves  were 
made. 

"  Indeed,"  I  exclaimed,  ''  indeed  !  then  may  I  ho])e 
to  learn  sometliin«»'  of  their  history,  and  how  it  comes 
a])out  that  only  two  sleep  in  this  .-sacred  field  and  they 
sleep  side  by  side.  I  should  like  to  know  of  the  lives 
of  those  who  are  its  only  occu])ants.  Surely  there  nuist 
have  been  some  peculiar  history  attached  to  them,  — 
some  tender  ])assai>'e  in  their  lives,  a  life-long  sym])a- 
tliy  of  a  notable  and  noble  scu't,  —  to  acc(mnt  for  the 
fact  that  two,  who  by  their  names,  it  would  seem,  were 
not  akin,  should  thus  be  lyino-  in  then*  last  sleej)  like 
brothers,  inse})arable  even  in  death." 


'l-^ 


'V 


I,  tlu' 
;  your 

UKIHV 

slt't'l) 

l'('|)(»S(i 

will ;  " 
re,  tor 
my  lot 
behold 
t  im'in- 

to  be  a 

i-eplled. 
and  ill 
ckwai'd 
added, 
es  were 

I  ho])e 
comes 
id  they 
lie  lives 
ire  must 
liem,  — 

isymi)a- 
ifor  the 

111,  were 

|ep  like 


s.\nn.\Tii  AMoxc   riiK  MorxTAixs. 


211 


*'  Your  surmises  are  far  from  coirect,  '  i('|>!ie(l  (lie 
veiierahle  man.  " 'I'iicv  weir  not  itrotiieis,  as  vou  have 
su«»«»('sted,  they  weie  not  even  friends,  tiiev  were  hitter 


enemies. 


a 


iUemies 


exclaniMM 


I  I. 


eiiemit's  !  orcat  heavens 


\ 


How  eame  thev  tiieii  to  lie  hnried  side  hy  side*^ 


a 


swer, 


Your  astonislimeiit    is    hut  natural,"    was  the   a 
"  It  was  stranjie,  it  was   unnatural,  it  was  eve 


u- 


'rt^' 


n 


V   WIS 


h,— 


irreverent,  hut  it  was  in  aecordance  with  thei 
I  may  say  their  express  eommaiid." 

"1  pray  you,"  said  J,  ichitchino-  my  horse  at  the 
post,  "  1  jiray  you,  if  your  leisure  permits,  tell  me  the 
tale,  for  certain  it  is  that  my  mind  cannot  conceive 
why  two  enemies  should  desire  to  he  huried  side  hy 
side.  Surely  hiiiiian  life  is  louj;-  enough  to  exhaust  the 
force  of  liumaii  hatred;  oris  it  a  jiart  of  that  fierce 
tire  which  is  never  (pienched,  not  even  hy  the  waters 
of  death,  or  the  sinotherin<»'  dampness  of  the  j»Tave  ?  " 

"  I  will  comply   with  your  recpiest,"   res|)on(led  the 


(1 


liied  man, 


u 


for  1 


itl 


am  weary  witu  waiKini;'  and  won 


lid 


willinoly  rest  a  little  space  before  1  i)ursue  my  way.  You 
must  know,  then,"  he  continued,  as  he  seated  himscdf 
on  a  stone  opposite  me,  "  you  must  know  that  I  visited 
this  place  partly  that  I  mij;ht  see  once  more  the 
beauties  of  nature  in  this  secluded  sj)ot,  and  partly  that 
my  eyes  mioht  behold  ai»aiu  the  scenes  that  were  once 


■o 


familiar  and,  I  may  a(ul,  so  <>Tateful  to  them. 


a  T 


riiirty  years  a<;"o  this  little  vale,  now  so  reposeful, 
resounded  with  the  hum  of  human  activity.  In  yonder 
mountain  side  you  can  find  a  shaft  sunk  by  tlie  miners' 
skill,  ill  search  of  the  rich  ores  which  were  then  be- 


^f,. 


t 


'♦ '  "i* 


^ 


i  u 


I    • 
I   J 


I 


'i:  ; 


I'- '  .  ! 


iB 


:,i    ♦ 


» h 


!.:m: 


'    1  V  ;i    ' 

I    1 


ii  r 


■.i!! 


ill 


]m 


Hi 


242 


DAYLKilir    LAND. 


'I 


licvcd  to  lie  hiiiiiMl  witliiii  its  si(l(>s.  Ilore,  In  tho 
depths  ol'  tlic  I'orrst,  a  villaj;*'  spiiiii^'  up,  as  it  wore  in 
ii  (iav,  iiiid  iiicii  of  iiiany  iiation:iliti('s  caiiic  poiirin*;' 
into  tliis  secluded  i;len  in  what  proved  to  he  a  vain 
seai'cli  for  ^'old.  I'rovich'nee  ^^nich'd  nie  to  this  spot, 
even  witli  tlie  first  \va«»()n  train  that  penetrated  liere, 
and  liere  I  staved  and  ministered  the  hest  I  nii<>ht  to 
theii'  eternal  <»(>od,  initil  th(!  last  waj^on  left  the  olcn 
forever.  All,  those  were  stirriniL>'  and  noisv  times," 
mused  the  old  man,  as  if  he  once  more  saw  the  husth^ 
and  heard  the  noise  of  tht;  husy  eneampment.  *'  A 
hundred  axes  swept  the  mi«;hty  trees  from  vonder 
slo[)e,  and  half  a  hundred  cahins  rose  as  hy  ma<;ie  on 
the  hanks  of  yonder  hrawlin*;'  stream.  'IMie  «>iant  pines 
that  tlien  stood  where  is  m)W  this  elearino-  furnished 
the  walls  of  their  hahitations,  and  from  yonder  rock, 
hy  which  that  a<>('d  heech-tree  stands,  I  pleached  the 
hest  I  mi<>ht,  to  those  who  came  seeking-  earthly  wealth, 
of  that  other  treasure  whicii  neither  moth  nor  rust  can 
corrn|)t,  in)r  thieves  hreak  throu«»h  and  steal." 

"  I  (h)  not  donht, "  I  said,  as  the  venerahle  man 
paused  a  moment  in  the  recital  of  his  early  ell'orts  to 
lead  men  to  he  wise,  "  that  your  emleavors  were  as 
suceessfid  as  I  feel  they  were  earnest." 

"  They  were  not  wholly  in  vain,"  replied  the  other 
reverently,  "  for  I  had  the  everlasting-  word  and  the 
spirit  that  (juickeneth  to  assist  me,  and  even  the  fool- 
ishness; of  preaching'  did  not  wholly  fail.  For  with 
two  exce])tions  the  toilers  in  the  mines  and  they  who 
tilled  the  open  sj)aces,  where  nature  made  tilla<j^e  ])()s- 
sible,  lived  in  peace  one  with  another  and  outwardly, 
at  least,  kept  the  laws  of  God. 


Ml 


'  r 


'!« 


SAHHATII    AMONii    TIIK    MorN'I'AlN'S. 


'2V.\ 


.|.i 


11  i\\i* 
cic  in 
)urin<; 
1  vMin 
;  s\)ot, 

1    lu'lT, 

io'lit  to 

tiini'S, 
Imstlo 

t.    "A 

VOIkU'I" 

laoic  on 
lit  i»iiu's 
irnislu'd 
cr  rot'U, 
h('(l  tUo 
wi'ultli, 
rust  can 

)!(>   iiiiin 
llYoi-ts  to 


>vei'e  1 


IS 


10    o 


JllU 


tlier 
I  tl 


le 


[lie  i'ool- 


10 


|liey  ^v 
aoe  pos- 
Itwardly, 


*'  I  said  all  l»iit  two;  tlicsc  two  wrrc  iiicii  ot'  .iiiotlu'r 
coiiiiti'v  and  anotlu'i*  cliiiu'.  liotli  were  dark  ol'  i'aco 
and  mood,  and  scaircd  in  induiown  tiu'lits.  It  waH 
wliis[»('i('d  tliat  they  had  met  in  deadly  eonllict  years 
iiet'ore,  ;ind  that  the  sears  of  each  were  oF  wounds  made 
hy  the  other.  Hut  none  knew,  perhaps,  I'or  certain,  tor 
they  were  of  a  sort  little  <;iven  to  speech  and  told  their 


hist 


ory  to  noiH'. 


*'  That  they  liated  each  otlicr  they  did  not  eonceal, 
and  their  hatred  was  of  that  (piiet  and  deadly  sort 
most  painlul  to  see.  Tiiey  were  n(»t  loved  hy  any. 
'I'hey  were  even  sliunned  hy  thosc^  with  whom  they 
toiled.  Indited,  they  were  the  dark  s])irits  of  the  camp, 
for  it  mii;lit  scarce  he  called  a  settlement,  and  their 
ju'cseiice  was  universally  re<»Tetted  ;  and  yet  they  made 
no  disturbance  ;  but  whether  from  the  |)eculiar  order- 
liness of  their  surroundings  or  because  each  with  the 
])atienee  of  deadly  (running'  bided  his  time,  there  was 
no  outbreak   between  them. 

"  For  t>vo  years  they  worked  side  by  side.  By  a 
stranp^e  fortune,  for  the  cabins  were  built  in  common 
and  then  drawn  for  by  lot,  the  one  drew  No.  20,  and 
the  other  21,  and  so  they  lived  side  by  side  in  silent 
hatred." 


"  It  was   a   terrible  way   to   live."    I    ic-iuarked,   f( 


>r 


the  stran<2^e  tale  interested  me  deeply,  "  and  certainly 
a  stran«;er  fortune  never  befell  two  foes,  than  to  thus 
meet  m  a  foreio-n  land,  scarred  by  each  other's  blows, 
and  toil  side  by  side  by  day  and  live  in  houses  that 
almost  touched,  hatin<»'  each  other  with  terribh^  hatred, 


and  yet 


'ha 


never  excnani>in<»'  word  (u* 


1  or  bl 


ow 


,iv  lllll  I 


'}\ 


.1   H 


I       I 


:  •,  ^*  ' ! 

'  :■ !     i 

■;  "  (  ■ 

,  •  { • 


1  ^ 


•M 


ail  it 


!•   '" 


244 


DAYLKIIIT   LAND. 


T   . 


I  I 


•?r 


"  It  was,  indeed,"  returned  tlie  old  man,  "a  terri1)lo 
Avay  indeed,  and  I  did  wliat  I  eould  to  l)rin<^  them  to  u 
better  uiind.  God  knows  I  lal)ored  witli  them  and 
strove  in  })rayer  in  tlieir  helialt ;  hut  my  labor  was  in 
vain,  and  my  })ravers,  for  some  Avise  i)ur))ose,  were 
never  answered,  for  tlieir  hearts  remained  hardened, 
and  I  could  make  no  salutary  impression  on  their 
wicked  souls. 

"  The  mines,  which  at  hrst  had  been  j,  jductive,  sud- 
deidy  gave  out  and  no  longer  paid  the  ex})enses  oF 
working  them.  And  at  the  end  of  two  years  they 
were  abandoned  and  the  settlement  prepared  to  dis- 
perse. When  scarcely  a  dozen  rema'^^ed  and  these, 
myself  among  the  number,  were  preparing  to  follow 
those  who  were  already  gone,  the  two  men,  who  had 
made  no  j)reparations  to  go  and  Avere  evidently  intend- 
ing to  remajn,  for  the  j)ur})()se,  I  doubt  not,  of  meet- 
in""  once  more  in  savai»e  conflict  with  none  near  to 
thwart  tlieir  deadly  intent,  were  suddenly  taken  sick. 
Humanity  forbade  that  we  should  desert  them,  and  we 
tarried  until  the  end  should  appear,  l)ut  their  sickness 
was  nnto  death,  and  Ave  had  not  long  to  Avait. 

"  Thcv  died  the  same  niolit.  Tlie  one  but  a  few 
moments  before  the  other.  I  attended  at  their  death 
beds,  but  had  no  other  rcAvard  than  the  consciousness 
of  duty  done.  The  one  that  died  first  shoAved  no 
concern  saA^e  for  one  thing ;  asked  but  (me  question, 
Would  the  other  die  ?  A  brother  miner  standing  by 
his  side  ansAvered,  '  He  a\  ill  not  live  an  hour.' 

"  For  an  instant  the  light  of  a  Avild,  fierce  satisfaction 
blazed  balefully  from  the  eyes  that  Avere  already  half 


I  iStIt 


.!■ 


H 


u- 


,1  tl » 


*.i;t!: 


^,  Hi 

i  i    1: 


(,i 


.^^:     '^ 


M' 


I.  1 


' !' 


'¥1 


EAST    OTTERTAIL. 


t 

.     • 

It. 
ft 

l' 

1 

1 

1 '. , 

1 

1 

> 

j 

;  » 


fl 


1      ^ 


1. 


:f.». 


SAHBATH   AM()X(r   THE   MOUNTAINS. 


247 


ill 


eclipsed  behind  the  shiidow  of  death,  uiul  in  ^y\u^t 
seemed  to  us  to  be  an  imprecation  breathed  in  an  un- 
known tongue,  the  wretched  man  strai«;litened  himsell: 
in  his  bed,  and  with  tlie  deadly  scowl  still  on  his  face, 
and  the  passin<»;  curse  still  (piiverhi«>'  on  his  lii)s,  died. 
It  was  a  terrible  scene,  sir." 

''  It  nuist  have  been,"  I  exclaimed,  "  it  nuist  have 
been  ;  but  did  the  other  show  no  repentance  ?  " 

"  None  whatever,"  was  the  mournful  reply.  "  From 
the  presence  of  the  dead  1  went  to  the  presence  of  the 
dyino".  A  miner  who  had  Avorked  by  his  side  in  the 
shaft,  and  was  in  some  sort  a  conu-ade,  was  standiu^- 
by  his  cot  as  I  drew  near.  Life  was  fast  ebbin<>-  away, 
and  what  mi<>ht  be  done  must  be  doiu^  (piickly.  I 
be<»<>ed  that  I  mi«»ht  pi"iy  with  him.  lie  refused.  I 
gently  urged  him  to  re})entan('e.  He  smiled  in  mock- 
ery. Suddenly  starting  from  the  deadly  stui)or  settling 
on  him,  he  asked  the  miner  if  his  enemy  were  living. 
He  was  told  that  the  man  had  even  then  died.  A  look 
of  fiendish  satisfaction  flashed  throujih  the  olooni  of 
his  swarthface,  and  lifting  his  clenched  fists  he  brought 
them  down,  smiting  the  couch  wdth  dying  energy,  as  if 
it  were  the  head  of  his  foe. 

"  '  Have  you  any  wish  to  leave  behind  you  ? '  asked 
his  comrade. 

"  ^  Yes,'  he  answered,  and  the  words  were  hissed 
from  between  his  teeth  with  indescribable  fierceness. 
*  Yes.     Make  my  grave  close  beside  his,  damn  him.' 

"  It  w'as  a  terrible  scene,  a  terrible  scene,"  exclaimed 
the  old  man,  and  for  a  moment  he  hid  his  face  in  his 
hands  as  if  the  distance  of  thirty  years  were  not  enough 
to  shut  it  from  his  eyes.     At  length  he  resumed,  — 


'-4 

j 
tk-.V. 


i     f 


^•'  H 


H'f:  i 


t !  I  ■  i  s 


1 


14 


f 


sli 


248 


DAYLKJIIT   LAND. 


"  Unnatural  and  terrible  as  it  was,  we  felt  con- 
strained, at  least  the  miners  did,  to  obey  the  dying'  be- 
hest ;  and  so  on  the  morrow  the  men  who  had  hated 
each  other  in  life,  and  hated  each  otlier  in  death,  were 
buried  side  by  side." 

The  old  man  paused  at  this  point  a  moment,  evi- 
dently oppressed  by  the  memory  of  human  passion  and 
wickedness  he  had  been  narratin<»'.  At  lenoth  his 
eves  wandered  toward  the  two  graves  which  nature 
had  so  impartially  adorned,  and  upon  which  nature's 
sun  was  now  shining-  so  kindly,  and  he  added,  — 

"  There  have  they  slept  these  thirty  years,  side  by 
side,  unknown  and  unnoted,  save  by  some  chance 
traveler  like  yourself.  And  there  will  they  sleep  until 
the  resurrection  trump  shall  sound  and  they  shall  rise 
at  its  commanding  summons." 

"  Surely,"  I  exclaimed,  ''  surely  that  morn  Aviil  not 
find  them  in  their  hatred.  Surely,  reverend  sir,  you 
cannot  believe  that  when  the  trumpet  of  the  Lord  shall 
sound,  and  men  come  forth  in  obedience  to  its  call, 
these  two  sliall  rise  with  the  old  hatred  in  their  souls  ?  " 

"  I  cannot  tell  as  one  who  speaks  from  knowledge," 
answered  the  old  man,  "  but  I  liave  studied  the  cliarac- 
ters  of  men  these  sixty  years,  and  noted  the  laws  that 
seemed  to  underlie  their  changes,  but  have  seen  notli- 
ing  to  warrant  the  belief  that  character,  once  settled 
and  confirmed,  ever  changes.  Habits  change,  men 
actjuire  new  expression  for  their  powers,  but  the  char- 
acter itself  remains  permanent  and  solidly  fixed  as  the 
everlasting  hills,  unless  previous  to  death  a  change  is 
wrought  by  the  Spirit  through  repentance." 


SAHHATII   AMOXd    THE   MOUNTAINS. 


'249 


li 


But,  sir,"  I  exclaimed,  "  does  death,  then,  do  noth- 
ing for  us,  and  does  the  <»Tave  not  brino-  a  coolinj;-  to 
the  heree  heat  of  human  passion  ?  Surely  one  mi<>ht 
judo-e  by  the  Avay  in  which  men  of  your  profession 
speak  at  funeral  scenes,  that  at  the  close  of  life,  even 
in  the  act  of  its  closing-,  there  comes  to  men  a  needed 
and  a  blessed  correction.  Certainly  1  have  lieard  tliem 
so  express  themselves,  and  I  myself  have  found  conifort 
in  the  faith  that  amid  the  darkest  clouds  of  death  the 
mourner's  eye  could  always  see  a  star." 

"  I  know  that  under  the  pressure  of  the  scene,  and 
of  that  humane  desire,  strong-  in  every  sympathetic 
heart,  to  speak  some  word  that  can  console  the  present 
grief,"  answered  the  old  man,  "  that  my  brethren  do 
thus  speak  at  funerals.  And  1  myself  have  o/'ten  been 
prompted  to  do  the  same  and  have  often  done  it,  but 
I  am  confident  that  the  impulse  of  the  moment  Avas 
not  born  of  reason  and  had  no  warrant  in  the  Scrip- 
ture, for  the  Scripture  saith,  '  As  the  tree  falls  so  shall 
it  lie,'  and  again,  '  Let  him  who  is  filthy  be  filtliy 
still.'  And  in  these  sayings,  God  does  not,  as  I  con- 
ceive, speak  judgments  on  men,  but  simply  asserts  the 
permanence  of  human  character,  which,  amid  whatever 
of  ruin  may  have  come  to  it,  retains  at  least  the  dignity 
of  being  true  unto  itself." 

"  What  hope  is  there  for  man,  then  ?  "  I  cried  out ; 
"  for  if  no  blessed  change  may  come  and  all  nuist  be 
in  the  hereafter  even  as  they  are  here,  if  not  swift 
mercy  matches  the  swiftness  of  the  fatal  stroke,  how 
can  the  eternal  Father  adjust  tlie  feelings  of  his  bosom 
to  mortal  circumstance  ?     Venerable  man,  it  is  not  for 


>-i 


f» 


;;   f 


% 


i 
l! 


,..f)' 


•'■it 


liJ. 


(i  ij    > 


j:.i;li!  I 


P'!  i 


)  ! 


♦ 


250 


DAYLKillT    LAND. 


Ui 


i  : 


me,  who  am  untiui<»lit  in  doetriiR',  to  {ii'oue  with  one 
like  yon,  clerically  triiined  and  wise  witli  \cais,  hnt 
eternity  is  h)ng'  and  life  is  short.  The  cradle  and  the 
«»rave  are  ever  in  sight,  and  short  the  s»)ace  and  swift 
the  })assa<»e  from  the  one  to  the  other.  Mnst  there  not 
be  at  the  end  s(miethino-  to  matcli  the  h)ve  tliat  watched 
over  ns  in  tlie  l)e<»innin«>',  some  sweet  for<^iveness  to 
hover  on  tireless  win**'  above  onr  <;rowini>'  fanlts,  some 
wis(h)ni  to  constantly  point  ont  and  some  love  to  per- 
snade  ns  nnto  j»'oo(l,  and  in  the  end,  if  necessary,  some 
almiohty  mercy  to  wipe,  with  one  brave  <»estnre  of 
atonin<»'  l)ity,  the  stains  of  all  onr  fanlts  and  sins  away  ? 
Say,  reverend  man,  does  no  snch  divine  provision 
exist  .'' 

It  is  bnt  just  to  say  that  the  old  man  was  i)rofonn(lly 
affected  by  the  appeal,  which,  in  the  de[)th  of  my  h)no- 
in«^  for  Iniman  kind  thns  stirred,  I  had  ponred  forth 
with  unconscious  earnestness.  He  actually  <»r()aned 
aloud,  as  if  on  Ms  spirit,  which  it  needed  but  a  <>lance 
at  his  benevolent  face  to  see  was  full  of  sweetest  pity 
for  all  the  errino-,  there  rested  the  Atlas-like  load  of 
human  destiny.  He  groaned  aloud,  and  rising  from 
the  rock  on  which  he  had  been  resting,  he  lifted  his 
aged  face  to  the  skies  and  with  tears  marking  their 
course  down  his  Avrinkled  cheeks,  he  said  :  — 

"  The  heavens  are  full  of  mercy,  that  I  know,  and 
nu)tlierhood  without  sex  divides,  at  least,  with  sterner 
elements  the  throne.  But  man  is  a  mighty  being  ;  he 
is  too  great  to  change  or  be  changed,  save  by  his  own 
volition,  and  when  once  the  character  is  formed,  when 
the  tree  has   firmly  rooted  itself  and  claspetl  the  move- 


f  ■  ' 


m 


:!; 


1'^ 


indly 
loiio- 

foi'th 
med 

pity 

1(1  ot* 
iroiu 
1  his 
tlieir 

and 
eriier 
;  he 
own 
hvhen 
Inove- 


SAHHATll   AM()N(i    TIIK   MOUNTAINS. 


251 


less  rock  Ijencath,  —  how  shall  it  ('hani;'e  ?  Whence 
shall  come  the  wish  to  ('lian<»e  ?  How  out  of  conceii- 
trated  evil  shall  he  l)oi'n  tlie  lioly  ])iir|)ose  ?  But  younj;- 
man,"  he  added,  as  he  took  my  hand,  '•  you  are  youn«»", 
and  I  would  not  dim  a  sin<;le  ho[)e  that  li<»lits  tlie 
world  ahead  of*  you,  nor  would  1  dis[)el  any  ha})|)y  iUu- 
sion,  even,  that  may  solace  your  <»riet'  when  oriel'  shall 
come.  For  even  illusions,  if  they  he  comfortini;",  may 
serve  a  divine  purpose.  No,  no,  live  ]ia[)[)ily,  in  hope- 
ful thoughts  of  men,  for  hope  is  often  truer  than  loj^ic. 
But  these  men  were  matured.  Their  minds  fully 
made  up,  they  died  im[)enitent ;  aye,  resistin<»"  over- 
tures of  mercy,  they  went  into  the  orave  nuitually 
resistino-  each  other.  What  is  there  in  that  silence 
yonder  ?  "  and  he  pointed  his  lon<»-  linger  toward  the 
little  eminence  on  vhich  the  two  <>Taves  were,  "  what 
is  there  in  the  silence  of  their  long'  sleep  there  to 
change  them  ?  Do  men  change  their  natures  in  slum- 
ber ?  Do  they  not  rise  as  they  lie  down  ?  The  trump 
will  sound.  Those  graves  will  open.  Those  sleepers 
there  will  wake  —  wake  from  their  long  sleep,  and  I 
fear  they  will  wake  hating  each  other  still.  For  hatred 
lives  with  the  innnortality  of  all  ill ; "  and  with  these 
words  the  old  clergyman  hade  me  good-by  and  turned 
away. 

For  a  moment  his  eyes  studied  the  surrounding 
mountains  as  if  they  Avere  taking  their  long  and  ail'ec- 
tionate  farewell ;  for  a  moment  he  stood  and  listened 
to  the  soft,  musical  lapsing  of  the  stream  that  mur- 
mured through  the  glade,  and  then,  su])])orted  hy  the 
staff   he   held,  with   feet  that  brushed  the   ruddv  ani 


.'  1  > 


M 


^  ( 


i^^ 


1 


if:  ■ 


^     'I 

M 


■    H 
>    ft 


••  i 


•» 


*    !■ 


i^.» 


tif 


DAYLKiliT    LAM). 


rustling'    leavos   asido   as    tliev   walked   on,   lio    passed 
slowly  up  the  lam'  and  disappcaicd  from  view. 

My  conversation  with  the  old  ('ler«»yman  had  <>iveii 
me  ample  food  for  meditation.  Tlu;  strange  history  he 
had  toKl  and  the  fearful  supposition  he  had  advanced 
possessed  my  mind  to  the  exclusion  of  any  other  suh- 
ject.  The  loneliness  of  the  secluded  sjiot,  when  he  had 
retired,  seemed  lonelier  than  before  he  had  joined  me. 
The  two  graves  seemed  to  deepen  the  solitude.  Tiiey 
no  longer  suggested  human  eompan'  Miship,  but  alien- 
ation, and  between  the  two  I  seemed  to  see  a  grent 
gulf  fixed,  deep  and  wide,  such  as  relentless  and  in- 
terminable enmity  digs  between  two  souls.  Wonhl 
Heaven's  mercy  ever  bridge  a  gulf  like  that,  or  Avould 
it  yawn  unbridged  forever?  Was  the  old  man  right? 
Is  human  hatred  innnortal  ?  Is  there  no  solvent  in  the 
grave  to  check  its  eating  corrosion  or  wash  its  dee[)('n- 
ing  stain  nway  ?  Thus  I,  })ondering,  (pu^stioned  destiny, 
and  pushed  my  thoughts  out  into  the  eternities.  How 
many  have  (piestioned  thus.  But  has  any  human  eye 
ever  seen  the  stony  li|'S  of  this  dreadful  s})liinx  oi)en 
in  answer,  or  has  any  human  ear  ever  heard  a  sure 
response  ? 

The  sun  shone  warmlv  alono-  the  mountain  side  and 
showered  the  lonely  opening  with  its  beams.  The 
leaves  Avere  vellow  and  thick  a  mv  feet,  and  my  faith- 
ful  horse  dozed  at  his  post.  "  I  will  wait  for  the  com- 
ing of  my  companion,"  I  said,  and  casting  myself  amid 
the  warm  leaves  I  leaned  back  against  a  moss-covered 
stone,  and  thus,  half  reclining,  fell  asleep. 

What  are  dreams?  Are  they  prophecies?    Were  the 


.-T)', 


'M 


'  ^  J| 


1 1 


SU18 

e  aiul 
The 

faith- 
coiu- 

►vercid 


•  «.  i 


THE   CHANCELLOR. 


re  tlie 


hAHHATll    AM()N(i    TlIK    MOl  NTAIXS. 


old  proplu't  ,  only  (Ircaincrs  ?  Arc  tlu-y  sonsclcss  niovo- 
nu'iits  ot"  tlio  tliinkint''  I'aciiltv?  What  lu'comos  of  the 
niind  when  we  sleep?  Docs  it  sl('('[)  too,  oi  is  it  al>le  to 
receive  impressions,  whicl'  tlic  slumlicrinj;'  senses  are 
then  nnalile  to  report?  Arc  the  visions  thai  conic  to  it 
mere  fantasies,  void  of  trnth  or  reason?  Who  can 
teP  ?  I  only  know  that  I  slept,  and  sK'cpinn-  dreamed. 
And  in  that  dream  I  was  chan«»-ed  niysclf,  and  saw 
snch  clianj;('S  in  earth  and  men  that  I  seek  in  vain  for 
words  with  which  to  descrihe  them. 

I  said  I  was  chanj^cd.  I  was.  I  was  <»Town  ont  of 
and  ahove  my  old  self  and  had  hecome  a  new  hein*;-. 
New  si<»ht  was  nunc,  new  hearin<»' ;  1  conhl  see  every- 
where :  I  conld  hear  everythino-.  1  rnled  si>ace.  No 
sonnd,  no  motion  esca])ed  me.  It  was  marvellous. 
This  is  the  best  I  can  do  to  descrihe  the  chanu'c 
in  me. 

I  said  I  saw  chan<];'es.  I  did.  There  was  no  horizon 
to  my  vision.  My  sioht  was  circnlar,  and  my  eyes 
flashed  oreat  zones  of  observation  ronnd  the  olobe  in- 
stantly. How  active  men  were,  and  how  idle  !  How 
sad,  and  how  merry  !  I  saw  them  beinjj^  born,  I  saw 
them  dying'.  Some  were  praying,  some  were  carons- 
ing',  some  were  dancing,  some  were  fighting  ;  and  the 
mighty  mnrmur  of  all  their  noises,  their  sobbing  and 
their  langhing,  their  groaning  and  their  cheering, 
their  i)raying  and  their  cnrsing,  as  it  swelled  np  from 
the  earth  and  rolled  its  waves  of  sonnd  aronnd  the 
globe,  came  collectively  and  individnally  into  my  ears, 
even  as  ordinary  sonnd  is  heard  by  ns  in  waking  mo- 
ments.    What   a  capacity  I  was,  while  like  a  god  I  lay, 


.!.,■ 


I      5 


II:   't 


,  1i 
ill 


»t  t 


•   * 


•l 


m 


I.'  ' 


■h\[ 


s- 


H' 


1 !  i 


*  . 


i 


h 


r .  H 


;iMk 


If! 


I' 


l» 


♦  i 


I- 


!  » 


*j:)(i 


hAVIJCIII"   I  AND. 


st't'iii^"  tlic  \vli<)l(!  woiM  mihI  lnMiiii^'  all  its  varied 
iKiiscs.  Docs  tin-  l)o(ly  <lwarl'  lis  so?  Does  it  Mud  us 
with  withes (>r  limitation  as  the  IMiilistiiies  did  Saiusoii ; 
and  is  death    hut  the  sua[)|>in^'  ol'  the  eoids  in  the  s(»v- 


eraui-e   o 


t'    which   there  eonu-s   liaeU  to 


us  tiiu  mi 


and  original  strength  ?   I  wonder. 

Suddenly,  even    as    I  was    looking;'  with   this  ail-per- 


ceivniii"    vision,    aiu 


d"   1 


sense  or    lieann«;',    silence 


I    list 
l( 


eiiinii'   wi 


U 


on 


t!«   tl 
tl 


lis    al 


receiviiiir 


le    w 


orld.      Not   a 


noise;  not  a  voice;  not  a  whisper.  The  «;uns  of  war 
were  dumh.  Men  were  duiuh.  Volcanoes  were  smoth- 
ered l)V  their  last  exph)sioii  and  their  craters  yawned 
silentlv.  The  waves  stilVeiied  and  stood  ri^'id.  Uirds, 
checked  in  mid  llii;ht,  hiinL»'  li\ed,  as  it'  nailed  to  the 
sky.  All  livin<»'  thiims  stood  still.  The  hush  ol'  an 
awful  expectation  tell  on  the  world. 

Next,  darkness!  Darkness  dense,  instant,  im|)eno- 
trahle.  No  sun,  no  moon,  no  star,  no  ta|)er,  no  spark. 
'J'he  <larkness  did  not  come,  —  it  was.  Tlio  sun  did 
not  t'a(h',  —  tlie  moon  did  not  wane.  The  stars  did  not 
ii'row  dim  hv  <leiirees.  Tlie  lires  of  the  earth  did  not 
|»ale.  The  caiuUes  did  not  flicker  —  all  lights,  on  the 
instant,  in  the  tAvinklino'  of  an  eye,  ex|)l()de(l  and  went 
out.  No  noise,  no  hj^ht.  Silence  and  darkness  over 
all  the  earth  ! 

The  world  listened.  Nature  hid  her  face  and  waited. 
What  was  comino-  ? 

A  noise,  a  sound  as  of  many  Avaters !  A  peal  as  of 
a  mammoth  hell  lunii'  hy  nni»hty  aiul  invisihle  hands 
in  an  invisihle  helfry  !  A  hlast  :  a  triim[)et  note,  hlown 
by  immeasurable  power  j  a  note  round,  full,  immense, 


1  » 


SAHUAril    AM()N(i     rilK    MOUNTAINS. 


•-'.>7 


that  captiiit'd  tlic  imivtMSf  ami    iillcd  it  so  that  its  vcrv 
horch'i's  ran;;!      77/r  Inst  Iniinp  ! 

The  held  in  \vlii(  li  I  lav  shook.     A  thrill  as  of  awful 
tciror  ran   tliroiij;h  tho  sod.     'i'hc  tiiif  scciucd  t 
and   shrivel  with    fear,      'riic  t 


o  (reel) 


W(»  <;rav('s  ojicnc* 


il.     Tl 


two  www  rosL',  and  each  standing-  in  his  coniu  looked  at 
the  other,  the  same  —  ^reat  (iod  !  —  the  very  same 
as  when  they  died  !  They  had  slept  a  thousand  years, 
ten  thousand,  hut  ail  the  )ears  had  not  changed  them 
a  whit,  for  t|io  same  hatred  j;lared  in  their  faces  as 
they  st«)0(l  in  the  resurre(;tion  as  when  thev  died,  enrs- 
iny  each  other  in  the  ealiins  that  stood  hv  the  <iiM<«liii<r 
stream.  Yea,  there  they  were,  unchanged  hy  all  the 
years  that  had  eome  and  ^one  since  their  hodies  had 
heen  huried  side  hy  side,  in  that  little  clearing;'  in  the 
(yanadian  woods,  ten  thousand  years  hefore  ! 

"  Do  those  wretches  know  what  an  eternity  there  is 
hefore  them?"  I  said  to  myself,  as  I  j>azed  in  horror  at 
the  spectacle.  ''  I  will  ^o  and  plead  with  them,"  and 
1  was  on  the  ])oint  of  starting-  ui)  when  I  felt  a  shock 
—  Ji  terrihie  shock  —  as  if  the  solid  earth  had  exploded, 
ul    then    another  more   terrihie   than   the   former.     1 


ai 


sereanu'd,  my  eyes  sj)ran<;-  open. 


u 


Wak 


e   ui) 


wlu)  was  s 


hal 


wake    up 


l» 


It 


was   my  compainon 


IvHiii'  me. 


'"  Wake  up;  what  are  you  dreamini;-  ahout,  old  hoy  ?  " 

Tliaidv   God,  it  was  a  dream  !     Thank   God,  nothin*^ 

but  a  dream.      Perhaj)s  the  old  pastor  was  wrong",  per- 


iDS  men  ( 


4 


h>  el 


lano-e, 


—  ])erl 


la 


ps. 


•  » 


M 


r.t 


inf 


,i^'-  i 


\ii  ^ 


l; 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


TilH    (JHKAT    (iLAOIKK. 


.•  4 


i  ■■ 

i  ? 
i  ? 


■■  I  will  lift  111)  iniiie  t-ycs  unto  tlic  liills." 

WEEPING  uroiiiid  tlie  point  of  a  name- 
less iiiountain,  v  elided  into  the  diiu, 
narrow  vista  of  a  snow-slied,  iive  linn- 
dred  yards,  ])eiliaps,  in  leng'tli.  Here 
and  tlieie  its  i»l()oni  was  crossed  witli 
shafts  of  lii>ht  and  checkered  with 
oh'aniini>'  rays,  which  made  of  the  h)ni>'  vista  a  kaleido- 
scope of  jet-hhick  blocks  bordered  by  bri<;ht,  many- 
coh)red  lines,  chani»('ful  and  lively,  presentini;'  to  the 
<»'azer's  eye  a  lovely  j)icture  to  look  upon  ;  while  far 
iR'Vond,  the  a])ertnre  stared  at  us  like  a  oreat  white, 
expressionless  eye,  at  which  we  rnslied  with  rattle  and 
roar  and  burst  of  thunderous  sound  fnmi  wheel  and 
truck,  hissing'  brakes  and  belchino-  funnel,  but  which, 


1  I 
.1   : 


iKinie- 
(lini, 
L>  liuii- 
lU'ie 
ll  with 
with 
laleido- 
iiumy- 
Ito  tho 
lile  far 
white, 
lie  aiul 
tel  iiiid 
which, 


THE  (aiEAT  GLACIEK. 


2r)9 


uiitrigliteiied,  stared  steadily  at  us  without  shiinkiii<»; 
as  we  eanie  hiU'tHng  ou.  In  a  moment  we  were  shot 
out  of  the  monstrous  tunnel,  framed  with  <>i<»anti('  tim- 
hers,  strongly  hraced  as  is  the  curvature  of  the  world, 
on  which  the  avalanche  falls  harndess,  and  over  whose 
roof,  angled  truly  to  the  mountain  slope  and  riveted 
into  its  side,  the  awful  landshde,  wide  and  long  with 
the  width  and  length  of  acres,  its  trees  all  standing  and 
its  huge  howlders  undisturhed,  pours  its  vast  mass  into 
the  ravine  helow,  leaving  this  magnilicent  device  of 
man's  invention  unshaken  and  unstirred. 

Onward  we  whirled,  the  majestic  forest  trees  on 
either  side.  U[)on  our  left  a  mountain  slope,  witle, 
high  lifted,  an  inunense  stretch  of  sylvan  surface  ;  on 
our  right  a  dark,  deep  ravine,  down  whose  hlack  hot- 
torn  a  glacial  torrent  drc  its  foaming  line  ;  Avhen  sud- 
denly our  engine  curved  sharply  to  the  right,  and  lo,  a 
spectacle  of  spectacles  stood  full  before  our  wondering 
eyes. 

'"  Heavens  !  "  exclaimed  the  Judge  excitedly,  "  was 
there  ever  such  a  si<»ht ? " 

Those  who  have  traveled,  who  have  wandered  far 
and  seen  much,  will  tell  you  that  out  of  the  mass  of 
things,  places  and  faces  they  have  seen,  a  few  alone  re- 
main fixed  and  clearly  outline<l  in  memory.  Many  ,'re 
the  pictures  we  hang  on  memory's  walls,  hut  with  the 
passage  of  time  most  fade  to  l)lackness.  Only  a  few 
hold  their  colors  last,  and  fewer  yet  brighten  them  tjs 
the  years  go  on  :  here  an  ocean  scene,  a  storm,  a  drift- 
ing" wreck  liglitniiig-lighted,  or  scudding  like  the  ghost 
of  a  ship  through  the    tempestuous  moonlight ;  or  it 


i 

I 

;  lit 


li   : 


i 


1^:  i 


H 


■'»; 


4 


,!■ 


] 


■      t         ' 

I 

i 

;■■■!  • 

I-  i 


■1  '' 


'I  •      '1 


2(;o 


DAYLICIIT    LAND. 


(1;       . 


may  '»('  ;i  face,  — a  single  face,  old  or  young,  happy  or 
sad,  living  or  (lead, 
u  friend's,  a  foe's, 
a  s  t  r  a  ii  g  e  r's  ;   a 
stretch  of  forest,  a 
nionntaiu    view 
torrent  bursting 
from  some    savage 
oorue  down  whicli 
Chaos    hurriedly 
trailed,  followed  by 
her  unformed  rem- 
nants when   driven 
from    the    face    of 
tlie     earth    by    the 
growing    order    of 
the  skies.     So  trav- 
elers   t  e  s  - 
t  i  f  y,   and 


thus  we   who  gazed,  gray-headed  wanderers   all  of  us, 
knew  it  would  be  with  tins  spectacle  wliieh  stood  in  start- 


)  I 


or 


v^«^ 


)f  us, 
stait- 


(II 
o 
m 


CD 


o 


H 


I*.  ;; 


♦      f 


) 


ii 


If) 


!   i 


TIIK   CRKAT  (il.AClKU. 


2i):\ 


lino-  t'leariiess  l)ef;)i'e  our  eyes,  jind  wliicli  liud  risen  into 
view  on  the  inst;int  from  the  depths  of  th(!  savji<»e  Sel- 
kirks.  It  was  a  picture  as  ek'arly  cut  as  some  ohl 
eameo  edged  by  that  antique  skill  tliat  now  is  dead  ; 
as  pronounced  in  the  Ihies  of  its  draftin«»-  as  stronj^ly 
contrasting*  colors  in  nature  minht  make  it :  so  varied 
in  the  fi<»;ures  introduced,  so  strange  and  even  startlin**' 
in  the  <»roupin<T  of  its  related  ])arts,  that  upon  the  in- 
stant it  dominated  the  mind  and  boldly  challenged  for- 
getfulness. 

"  Never  did  I  see  acli  a  picture,''  said  Mr.  Pepperell 
in  a  low  voice,  "  never,  iu)t  even  on  the  Fraser  or  the 
Thompson  in  the  old  days  !  " 

And  this  is  the  picture  we  saw,  translated  from  its 
majesty  and  glories  down  to  the  [)altry  measurement 
and  dull  neutrality  of  i>etty,  colorless  words :  — 

A  little  plat  rescued  from  chaos  by  man's  love  of 
order  ;  a  level  space  of  scant  size,  made  by  ironing  out 
the  corrugation  of  the  hills ;  on  this  little  platform, 
or  [)lateau  of  level  space,  a  cottage,  uni(pie  in  style, 
neither  house  nor  chalet,  but  fittin«r  harmoniously  to 
the  landscape ;  in  front,  a  space  graveled  and  ])latted 
for  Howers,  —  a  summer  garden  in  miniature.  In  the 
centre  of  it  a  fanciful  fountain  jetted  its  glacial  spray 
upward,  where  the  wind  caught  it,  and  blew  it  at  ran- 
dom through  the  bright  sunlight,  so  that  in  flying  and 
falling  it  filled  all  the  air  with  broken  pearls,  frag- 
ments of  silver,  and  sparklings  of  prismatic  hre.  Far 
below  this  scant  level  space,  with  its  graveled  walks, 
flashing  fountain,  and  widely  verandahed  miniature 
mansion,  dropped  a  gorge  through  which  a  glacial  tor- 


4      . 


'       * 


%'* 


»      • 


111 


i  . 


:   i 


■m 


'J  n 


[.III 


,  t 


1!     f 


'thl^     I 


f     ' 


> 

I 


2i\\ 


DAYMCIIT    I. AND. 


rent  wliirlcd  its  wliitc  lint'  of  lioiirso  noise.  Sliccr  np- 
wjiid  lifted  the  o})posito  nionntain,  a  Full  ten  thousand 
feet,  its  bold  summit  of  steel  i;'iay  roek  well  named 
Eaii'le  Peak,  for  only  an  eaMe's  wiui"'  mi^iit  reicli  it. 

Down  its  imj)osini;'  front  a  toiient  foanu'd   fiom  t(.p 
to  base.     Slowly  tluouuli  the  lon«i',  lofty  distance  oi 


idmiiini;'  eves  swi 


\)t  tl 


leii'  iiaze   un 


til  tl 


ley  re 


sted 


ir 


noon 


the  buttressed  battlements  of  Sir  Donald,  whieh,  i)ointed 
like  a  pyramid,  interrogates  the  mysteries  of  star  and 
sky,  the  ^olden  course  of  wheelini»"  orbs,  and  the  mean- 
in<»-  of  that  blue  depth  and  distance  which  lie  level, 
serene,  and  still,  above  the  storms  which  vex  the  lower 
atmospheres, 

"That  monstrous  shaft,"  said  the  flu<l«;e,  as  we  all 
stood  «>azini»'  at  Sir  Donald,  '*  is  a  solemn  interroaation 
of  what  is  above  and  beyond." 

''  Ijook  at  this,"  said  Mr.  Pepperell  eahnly,  as  lie 
faced  about. 

in  the  rear  of  the  chalet  a  m.ii»infic(>nt  forest  growth 
swelled  loftily  upward,  symmetrical,  projjortionate,  a 
lovely,  harmonious  whole,  —  a  sylvan  ]»icture,  vast  of 
height,  framed  by  the  sky  in  massive  blue,  and  fretted 
alouii'  its  cdii'cs  with  scuds  of  mist  and  ehanii'efnl  drifts 
of  cloud.  Never  had  the  eye  of  oiu'  of  us  Avood  wan- 
derers seen  a  lovelier  exhibition  of  forest  <>Towth  ; 
abundant,    dense,   soft-toned,    untouched    l)y    fire,   un- 


ci 1 


scarred  oy  violence  o 


)f  slid 


e  or  ava 


land 


le 


land 


scape 


P 


scene  of  unmatched  jierfection. 

8h)wly  our  eyes  Avandered  down  the  nass  and  clomb 
the  Hermit  Ivan«>-e,  ])eak  by  peak,  stole  aloni»-  its  slopes 
of  ice,   and  crej)t    beneath   the   glaciers,   lilliiii;-    every 


DWth 

(',  ;i 

ist  of 

iliit'ts 
waii- 
.th  ; 

',  uii- 
scape 

•lonib 

siopi's 

every 


•  •   ( 


MT     HERMIT,   ROGERS    PASb. 


H: 


i 
i 

1 

Till-:   (IKKAT  (il.ACIKK. 


L>() 


u 


^■oi'oc,  lijm<»iii<^  ]M>ls('(l  iTjidy  to  drop,  or  licld,  jaiiiincd 
ill  tilt'  vast  iuiij)liitli('ati'('s  wlicic  tliey  have  lu'cii  held 
beyond  the  count  of  years,  and  where  they  will  remain, 
unmoved,  unmelted,  until  time  is  ended  or  the  present 
order  of  creation  [»asses  away. 

So  we  stood  steadfastly  <»a/in<»'  at  the  vast  vision,  en- 
raptured, when  an  exclamation  from  a  man  hehind  ns 
faced  us  around,  and  there,  to  the  north  and  east,  we 
saw  a  sioht  which  may  not,  perha|»s,  ])e  matched  in  its 
oraiideur  and  surroundini»s  on  this  earth  of  ours.  A 
<»lacier,  vast,  lofty,  immense,  huttresse  '  hssured,  crev- 
iced,—  a  section  of  the  Mississippi  tihvd  )  ohlicjuely 
and  frozen  solid;  the  St.  Lawrence  p  'n:ij^  .)odily  over 
a  mountain  ran«»e  ten  thousand  '  o.  ;  >ove  you  and 
turned  on  the  instant  into  ice,  stilfened  solid  at  its  mad- 
dest phino'e  ;  a  creation  of  ten  thou  vs  years;  a  monu- 
ment ahove  those  past,  dead  years,  which  all  the  rain 
and  shine  of  other  ecpial  years  to  come  will  not  elface  ; 
standin<»'  cold,  monstrous,  motionless,  silent,  sublime, 
Avithin  a  distance  so  short  frcmi  our  ])arlor  ear  t'  t  even 
the  weakest  woman  or  smallest  child  in  it  mi«  l)v  an 
easy  stroll,  stand  under  its  ponderous  front.  Heavens  ! 
how  small,  how  feeble,  how  insio'nihcant  seemed  tha 
en<»ine  of  our  heavy  train,  with  its  sobs,  and  pantini»s, 
and  puny  pulfs  of  power,  beside  that  monstrous  crea- 
tion of  ages,  that  landscape  of  frozen  force,  that  over- 
hanains:  world  of  chained  enerjiv  which,  should  Nature 
ever  loosen  the  chilled  links  which  chained  it  to  that 
mountain  pass,  would  sweep  our  enoine,  train,  and 
yonder  house  away  like  chips;  ay,  crush,  grind  and 
pulverize  them  all  to  finest  dust,  so  fine  that,  were  it 


-r 


■  ♦ 


"^i 


n ' 


.:i 


*4 


r 


H 


n 


'l"\ 


\'\' 


'-I  '•"' 


•"''-'"  J^  ••*-"*-*' 


208 


DAYLKMIT   I.AND. 


(h'V,  tlio  winds  mii;lit  lift  it  as  thcv  lift  ashes  and  Idow 


it  thnuitih  the  air,  invisi 


1)1(3  to 


mortal  cvt'. 


''  NcnxT shall  it  l)u  said,"  fxclaiincd  the  .lii(l<»i',  "  that 
1  cauu'  to  such  an  t'livironnicnt  of  nia  jcsty  us  this  and 
passed  heedkssly  on.  llcic  we  \vill  sto[)  a  day  and  a 
ni<;iit,  and  see  the  sunset  si)len(h)r  and  the  sunrise  j;lory 
on  these  [)eaks,  and  the  nioonli<»ht  \vluten  the  surface 
of  that  fro/en  field.  There  is  not  ice  enough  in  Swit- 
zerhtnd  ro  make  that  single  glacier  yonder.  Let  the 
train  move  on.  We  four  have  wandered  on  the  earth 
too  widely  and  seen  too  uianv  of  its  wonders  not  to 
reco^^nize  the  extraordinary  and  do  homa«;e  to  it." 

And  so  the  train  rolled  down  the  <»Tade,  around  the 
swell  of  the  mountain  heyond,  and  left  us  four  j»Tay- 
lieaded  hoys  standin<»'  ahove  the  ""lacial  torrent,  i»azin<»' 


d 


uul  wonderniii 


That  afternoon    we   took  the  trail  — 


>  6' 


[ui  easy  way, 


Avhich  led  us  to  the  Glacier's  front.  Slowly  we  drew 
our  line  of  ])ro^ress  toward  it.  The  tit  mood  was  on 
us  all.  We  were  alone,  we  four.  We  an  ere  intellij»ent 
en()Uj»h  to  appreciate  the  awful  ]>henomenon.  We  saw 
it  with  the  eyes  of  many  years.  We  could  measure  it 
by  European  comparison.      We  C(udd  wei«;h  it  in  the 


scales    of    world-wide     knowledge. 


wo     o 


f 


us 


had 


footed  the  Alpine  passes.  One  had  seen  the  Ilinui- 
kiyas.  Another  had  wintered  within  the  Arctic  Circle. 
tSlov.'ly  we  moved  forward.  A  few  rods  of  motion 
onward,  and  we  Avould  pause.  We  were  all  eyes,  all 
feelino'.  We  felt  we  were  apj)roachin<»'  a  fragment  of 
eternity.  We  were  drawin<»'  nii»h  to,  and  «»azin<»'  at, 
a  bit  of  the  everlastinii'.     ]iefore  us  was  the  work  of 


rili:   CKKAT   CLACIKI! 


2()1) 


a«»('s.  I  lore  tlio  L't'iitiiiics  had  st()|)|)(>(l.  IJi'twuoii  these 
luoiistroiis  iiKMintains,  'I'iine  had  coinc  to  a  full  halt, 
powerless  to  j;(»  one  foot  farther.  Here  hefoie  us, 
ith     folded     wliius,     Avhite-faeed,     hoaiv-headed,     his 


w 


'r.'"' 


scythe  held  in  his  stillened  hands,  we  saw  hini  stand,  a 
statue  of  ice. 

"  Older  than  Rome,  older  than  Ki'Tpt,  older  than 
Man  !"  nuuiHured  the  .Iud«»e  soleiuidy,  as  he  «.';azed. 

In  front  (d'  the  (llaeier  was  a  «»reat  round  wall  of  sand, 
of  cohhles,  of  howlders.  Its  j>ressure  drove  downward 
to  the  hed  roek  of  the  world,  and  ploughed  the  surface 
earth. 

"■  This  plough  ])loughs  slowly,  hut  it  ploughs  deep," 
remarked  Colonel  (Joile,  as  he  ran  his  eye  along  the 
hi 


i<»e  ri(li»( 


h 


a 


Think  who  steadies  it  !  "  said  the  Judge, 


The  sun  sank  from  si<»ht  hehind  the  western  ridi»e. 
The  urav  shaft  of  Sir  Donald  Hushed,  reddened,  then 
blazed  as  with  fire. 

From  amid  the  dark  firs  a])ove  us  Night  softly  shook 
her    raven    plumage,    and    feathered    us    >vlth    gloom. 


Th 


d 


U'u  she  snre 


ad  li 


dd 


ler  saDle  >vnij>s. 


SI 


le  soared  up  war* 


d. 


and  the  world  (hirkened.  Anon  she  sailed,  a  vast  for- 
mation of  hlackness  above  the  peaks.  The  skies  saw 
her  coming  and  welcomed  her  with  every  window 
lighted.  The  Indian  myth  was  realized.  The  Haven 
brooded  tlu^  world. 

But  the  iiieat  Glacier  amid  the  olocmi  still  showed 
whitely.  Fnmi  between  the  piUars  of  darkness,  from 
the  cavernous  bku-kness  of  night,  it  looked  forth  like 
the  face  of  a  dead  man  from  the  mouth  of  a  i»rave. 


1!l 


!    . 


'     I 


I.  * 


") 


...  I 

i  *  > 


."I 


270 


DAVLKllll     l-AM». 


'*  Oldri'  tliiiii  Ni;;lil,  iiiid  liciicc  stioii^rr  !  "  \vliis|M'r('(l 
tlic  .lii«lj;e. 

'I'liiis  we  lour  Sill  in  tlic  (liirlviicss  watcliiii^  mimI  |miii- 
«l('iiiii;',  wliili'  tlinmi;li  (lie  i;l<)om  mid  llic  stilliicsN  tlu> 
j^hiciid  tonciit  at  our  tVct    toic   its  line  ol    lioarsc  noise. 

"Seel"  I  ('.\(liiiin('(l.  " 'I'lic  (Jlacici'  is  j»i(»\\iii<j 
wliitcr.  Its  paleness  lie«»ins  to  luii;liteii.  I^ool;  ! 
Tliere  is  a  ^N-aiii  in  that  ii|t|>er  cres  iee  !  And  see — see 
that  Hash  ol'  white  !" 

"The  moon  !  'I'he  iiio(»n  I"  cried  the  .Indue.  '" 'I'he 
niooii  is  risinj;'.  Now  we  shall  see  the  spectacle  of  u 
liretime  I  " 

Kxcns(»  nie,  reader,  I  cannot  wiite  it  down.  I  know 
the  limitation  ol'  letters.  Kxcn  coidd  I  tint  them  with 
all  the  colors  ol'  the  pah'tte,  it  were  in  vain.  Imau'ine 
our  position,  standini;  in  that  i;()ri;(',  dee|i,  <lee|t  down 
at  the  Ncrv  roots  ol'  those  monstrons  mountains,  within 
tlu>  incli»sure  of  their  awl'nl  environment  ;  the  stillness, 
which  the  roar  ol'  the  torrent  divided,  hnt  did  not  dis- 
tnrh  ;  the  whole  world  hiack  with  the  hiackness  ol' 
nit;ht  >vhen  it  smothers  tin-  woods  out  ol' sii;ht  <d'  the 
eve;  the  i;reat  (llacier  in  front  of  iis.  vast,  monstrons, 
formless,  as  it  lay  dimly  outlined  in  the  i;loom  ;  then 
imaii'iiic  it  i:rowiii!»',  i»rowinii',  <irowini»'  npon  the  siiiht. 
See  it  l»rii;hten  and  widen  out  into  \  iew. 

See  the  i^leams  hei^in  to  rnn  over  it.  Sec  that  llaih 
of  white  lii'c  strike  the  crest  and  rnn  crinkliiiii'  aloim' 
the  loftv  rido'c  nntil  it  connects  the  two  ojiposite  peal 
with  a  line  «d*  livini;'  li^ht. 


vS 


See  the  cie\ices    i»leam    and    i»listen     hriii'hter    and 
l)rii;hter.      Behold  the  sparkles  and  Hashes  of   lire  start 


iis- 

tiic 

I  Ills, 

hell 
lit. 

t 

il:.ll 


MOUNT   SIR   DONALD. 


■U: 


i|      ' 


tl 


TiiK  (iiiKAT  (;lacii:k. 


27:} 


up  hero  and  there,  ut  iaii(h)in,  Hasli,  sliift  and  fade,  and 
tlien,  as  the  rotiiuh'd  oih,  vast  of  size,  intense,  rose  nia- 
jestieally  above  the  sunnnit  and  h)oked  eahnly,  and,  as 


it  seemed,  a(hnirini»lv 
down  upon  it,  hehoM, 
in  your  imagination, 
what     we    saw,  —  the 


monstrous     mountains 

darkly   forested    round 

about  us,  between  wliich,  wide  as  a  landscajje,  lay  the 

j>Teat  Glacier,  bathed  in  soft  white  radianee  from  sid(» 

to  side,  from  base  to  sunnnit,  and  above  it  the  donu* 

of  the  sky,  and  suspended  from  it  the  round  moon  ! 

"  Day  unto  <hiy  uttereth  sju'ech,  and  nii»ht  unto 
ni<»ht  showeth  knowledo-e,"  said  the  Jn(li»'e  reverently, 
and  we  turned  slowly  from  the  sublime  s|>ecta<-le  before 
us,  and  started  to  pick  our  way  carefully  down  the 
trail. 

ir(?  had  seen  tlu   (ihn-'nr  !     It  was  enouL»h. 


i 


\ 


'.r 


W 


1  » 


> 


'V: 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

THE    HEliMIT    OF    FHASKR    CANON. 

'■  W<>  .-in'  not  ourselves, 
Wlieii  iiati'.rc,  l)eiiiL;'  oppressed,  cDiiiiiiiimls  the  iiiiiid 
To  suin.T  with  tlie  l)()(Iy."" 

K  \vli()   atteiu])ts  to  dcscrilx'  in   words 
tliis  majostic  fxliihitioii  of  iiatuic.  ad- 
vertises liis  ignorance  of  tlie  limitation 
of   letters  and  his  lack  of  artistic  dis- 
cernment.    Even  the  tonone  of  Peri- 
cles,  with  its  perfect  connnand  of  the 
Grecian    vocahnlary,  wonld   have  faltered   and    orown 
dnmb  had  he  stood  where  Ave   stand,  and  attempted  to 
describe  what  we  see." 


\l 


ad- 
itioii 
(lis- 
V  li- 
the 


TlIK    IIKHMIT  OF    KUASKU  CANON. 


275 


It  was  tlio  .lu(l«»e  who  spoke,  as  wo  stood  grouped  at 
a  point  midway  between  the  extremities  of  the  Great 
Canon. 

"  Nevertheless,  there  are  tliose  who  expect  me  to  do 
it,"  I  remarked,  "  and  will  hold  me  at  fanlt  if  1  fail." 

"Never  you  mind  that,"  responded  the  Jud<;e,  speak- 
ini»'  with  emphati",  earnestness.  ''  He  true  to  your 
knowledge  of  hini»ua<>e  and  your  own  sense  of  the  tit 
and  the  modest.  Here  is  a  work  of  God  whose  wild- 
ness  and  awful  sublimity  is  not  only  beyond  verbal 
description,  but  so  far  beyond  it  that  only  scribblers 
would  attempt  it.  Here  is  one  of  the  rare  exhibitions 
of  the  world.  Niagara  matches  it  in  nature.  The 
Halls  of  Karnac  and  the  Great  Pyramid  are  to  be 
classed  with  it  amono-  the  works  of  men.  T  have 
walked  through  the  one,  and  camped  a  week  at  the 
base  of  the  other.  This  exhibition  makes  nu'  hold  my 
breath.  H'  the  world  would  learn  what  is  here,  let  them 
come  and  see  it.  How  can  you  describe  tliat  mad 
turnu/il  of  water  ?  How  picture,  with  your  pen,  this 
awful  environment  of  mountains?  Gan  you  ))ortray 
this  terrible  ok)()m,  or  put  u])on  your  pages  that  far-(>lf 
ii'lcam  of  ice  on  those  smnmits,  or  send  throuiih  the 
leaves  of  your  book  the  hoarse  roar  of  yonder  whirl- 
ing, thundering  Hood  ?  Let  your  artist  attempt  it  if 
he  must.  His  failure  will  demonstrate  the  ])o\verless- 
ness  of  the  pen.  Victor  Hugo  himself  would  close  his 
note-book  were  !ie  here.  Lay  down  your  portfolio, 
and  we  will  sit  on  this  rock,  and  see  the  day  shrink  out 
of  this  fearful  gorge,  and  the  night  ])ush  her  black 
columns  into  it." 


■/:\ 

1 

■\\l 

i  t  I 

i<  i 


I      I 


.J-1 


270  UAYLItllir   LAM). 

We   four   were   t()i;otlu'i'.     Wo   had  left  the   car  at 


old 

»  W   II 

iitcii- 
in;i<l 


EAGLE    PEAK 


trhi'   .^"M  O 


♦  I 


Tin:    IIKUMIT   OF    KUASKU   CANON. 


279 


river,  — "  tlu'V   would    have    made    it    tiie  entrance    to 


Had 


es. 


Here  is  such   a  Styx  and    Acheron    as   tliey 


iiever  (lreanie< 


I  of. 


CI 


laron   could    never    have    ferried    a   stream    like 


that,"  1  said,  pointing'  to  the  whirlin<»'  water  helow, 


Th 


u.'V  won 


-y 


Idi 


lave  ma( 


lel 


urn  ii'o  wi 


th   tl 


le  current, 


responded  the  Jud«;e.  "  Down  with  the  current  that 
old  freighter  of  souls  would  have  gone, — down  he- 
tween  those  ledges  and  through  those  ghastly  lieaps  of 
foam,  out  of  sight,  with  his  pale  j>assengers,  forever 
and  ever." 

Nothing  hevond  this  for  a  lonu*  time  was  said.  We 
sat  in  silence,  —  we  four,  —  all  eyes,  all  ears,  all  feel- 
iuii".      We  heard  the  roar  of  the  river  rise  mi<ihtilv  and 


1 


loarseiv  ui) 


h 


ij' 


het' 


ween   tlie  clill's.      It  was  that  of  a   1 


soul 


ion 


le 


iding  in  the  scditude  of  the  desert  or  ;imid  tl 
ruins  of  a  tenantless  city  half  rnn'ed  in  desert  sand. 
We  saw  the  light  shriidv  and  fade  from  the  g<»rge  as 
that  of  life  shrinks  and  fades  from  the  <»lassin«»'  eves  of 
the  dying.  We  saw  (he  day,  ])allid  with  fear,  clind) 
the  cliiVs,  as  if  stricken  with  terror  at  the  growing 
gloom  helow,  frantic  to  reach  their  tops  and  rush  with 
lu'adlong  haste  after  the  declining  sun.  We  watched 
the  gloom  spread  over  the  river,  and  the  white  <»f  its 
rage  Hash  fitfully  through  it  as  it  deepened.  We  saw 
the  darkness  }»atlu'r  and  i»row  dense  alon<i'  the  ureat 
forested  slopes  ai»o\e.  and  sway  out,  lik<'  i)lack  fog, 
from  either  side  of  the  chasm,  until  it  uu't  the  middle 
air.  And  then  throui»h  the  smother  of  j>Ioom  we  saw 
the  heavens  uiake  revelation  of  iilorious  5»lohes,  of 
Hashing  orhs  and   shining  worlds.  —  proof  that  ahove 


'* 


^K 


i< 


^ 


280 


DAYLKJIIT  J.AND. 


and  hcyoiul  this  awful  j:;<)ro*e,  this  cliasm  of*  Cliaos, 
this  cave  of  Ni^iit,  tlio  universe  of  hiw  and  h^ht  still 
held  its  hrilliant  course  aiid  kept  its  benignant  move- 
ments wheeling  steadily  on. 

"  I  trust,"  said  Mr.  lV[)|)erell,  as  he  arose  from  the 
rock,  '^  that  1  am  not  unmindful  of  these  august  sui-- 
roundings,  and  1  shrink  from  rudely  disturbing  your 
rellections,  hut  1  confess  that  1  am  as  hnni»rv  as  a 
hear,  aiul  if  Colonel  Golfe  will  hel[>  me  lind  some 
cones  I  will  start  a  lire,  and  we  will  see  what  we  have 
in  the  hamper  for  sup|>er." 

What  a  rei)ast  we  four  old  campers  had  that  night ! 
Our  lire  was  kindled  on  a  wide,  Hat  ledge,  which  pro- 
jected slightly  over  the  river.  Above  us,  two  giant 
firs  rose  loftily.  IJelow  us,  the  river  seethed  and 
Hashed.  Across  the  whirling  current  our  campfire 
built  its  shiftiiiii',  trenudous  shaft  of  red  blood  color. 

We  broiled  a  ten-pound  salmon  which  an  Jndian 
had  speared  for  us,  as  we  strolled  u[)  the  road  that 
aft  niioon.  Our  provisions  were  ample,  and  we  feasted 
our  iiunger  full.  And  when  the  meal  was  made  we 
sat  and  fed  th<'  lire  with  fresh  cones  and  sticks,  and 
talked,  —  talked  gravely,  as  men  of  sense  so  circum- 
stanced might. 

"  I  met  with  a  strange  ex])erienee  here  a  year  ago," 
said  Mr.  lVp])erell,  suddenly,  ''  and  one  of  my  motives 
for  taking  this  journey  was  to  visit  this  canon  and  this 


very  s 


pot  wl 


lere  we  are.      As  strange  an  experience  as 


ever  befell  a  man,"  he  added  nuisingly. 

"  Tell  us  of  it,"  cried  the  Judge,  earnestly  ;  "  tell  ns 
your  tale  of  the  canon.     We  <lid   not  vis-it  this  awful 


»  « 


TIIK    IIKKMIT  OK    KHASKK  CANON 


'J81 


^•()ri»(«  to  sleep,  Imt  to  see,  listen,  and  feel  ;  and  a 
8ti'an«»e  tale  told  at  niidni^'ht,  amid  these  sunoundings, 
would  l)t'  most  apropos  indeed." 

"It  is  not  so  mueh  a  story  as  an  experience,"  replied 
Mr.  Pep{>ert'',  ''strange  and  wild  enoiij;li  to  suit  this 
spot  and  hour,  and  which  you  can  all  share  with  me  it 
you  cho(;se.  It  will  he  an  encore  to  me,  hut  a  novelty 
to  you." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?"  interro<»ated  the  .Iudi;e,  in 
a  surprised  tone.     "  I  don't  understand  you,  sir." 

In  [)laee  of  direct  reply,  Mr.  IVpperell  said  :  — 

"  Do  you  know.  Colonel  Goil'e,  that  you  are  sittings 
on  as  strange  a  tahlet  as  the  hand  of  man  ever  traced 
hefore  he  died,  to  trouhle  the  world  after  he  died  ?  " 

^'.lupiter  ('rickets  !  "  cried  the  Colonel,  as  he  jumped 
to  his  feet,  "■  what  (h)  you  mean,  Mr.  Pepperell  ?  " 

"  I  will  show  you  what  1  nu'an,"  he  replied.  '"  And 
I  will  show  you  what  I  foui.d  here  a  year  a«»'o.  Yes, 
we  will  oo  throuj^h  the  s;uue  experience  together  that 
I  went  throuiih  alone,  and  you  shall  tell  me  what  vou 
think  o£  it  ;  whether  he  was  mad,  and  how  he  died, 
and  where  he  lies  buried  ?  " 

"Of  whom  are  you  talkini»-,"  cried  the  Jud<»e,  ex- 
citedly, for  the  suddenness  with  which  Colonel  GolVe 
had  risen  and  Mr.  Pepperell's  mysterious  words  had 
excited  all  of  us.     "  Man  alive  !  of  whom  are  you  talk- 


"  Of  the  I/ii'iinf  of  Frascr  CtnVt}),''  resj)()nde(l  Mr. 
Pepperell ;  "  that  is  what  I  call  him,  heeause  that  is 
what  he  calls  himself.  Look  here,"  and  he  began  to 
brush  the  leaves  and  moss  from  the  stone  upon  which 


( 


I 


* 


282 


DAYLKMIT     LAND. 


(loloiH'l  GoHV  liiul  Im'cii  sittiim-,  "  wliat  do  voii  make  of 
tliat?  You  are  a  trailer,'  and  lie  looked  up  at  me. 
"Can  you  translate  that  sij^n  ?  "  And  l)eli(»ld,  as  we 
l(»<)ked,  we   saw   chiseled  into  the  le(li»e  the   follow! um* 


svni 


i>oh 


d  1 


s  and  liiiures. 


M 


"  Easily  enoui»h,"  T  responded,  as  my  eye  cauolit 
the  tracino"  clearly  in  the  li^ht  of  a  torch  I  lield  over 
it.  "  It  means,  oo  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet  in  a 
straight  line  from  this  s])ot  towards  yonder  clilV.  Then 
two  hundred  feet  at  nearly  ri<»]it  angles  to  the  left ; 
then  eighty  feet  ohlicjuely,  and  yon  will  e(nne  to  a 
eahin.  The  curved  lines  are  only  intended  to  deceive 
and  bcAvilder.  He  converted  his  straight  lines  into  Ji 
lahyrinth  to  deceive." 

"  Well  done,"  exclaimed  Mr.  Pe])])erell,  "  you  have 
read  at  sight  what  it  took  me  a  week  to  deci[)her.     IJy 


iiiK  iiKKMrr  OF  i'Kam;k     anon. 


2s:$ 


liy 


cliimro  1  luiilt  imv  tire  here,  aiid  in  tlic  li<>ht  of  it  1  saw 
that  nult;  tracin*;'  in  tiu>  l(Mli>'L>.  It  |iii//1(mI  inc.  It 
tornicnti'd  nic.  It  threw  nic  into  a  Fever  of  enriositv. 
1  stndied  it  for  (hivs  and  nights,  and  at  hist  I  u'ot  tlio 
ene.  (ienth'nien,  we  v  111  now  do  what  I  did  one  ni^ht, 
hist  vear.      I  want    von  to   see  this   '  <(i(ti/i  '  and  what 

•  * 

is  in  it.      Will  yon  come?  " 

"  ('ertaiidy,"  1  answered.  '"  Hnt,  Mr.  l*e|»i)erell,"  I 
contiiMU'd,  a  year  hrin^s  avalanehes  in  this  eonntry, 
and  1  wanant  yonr  "(•(thin'  won't  look  as  when  you 
saw  it." 

"The  eahin  which  that  '(V  stands  for  was  hnilt  l>y 
a  Huihicr  whose  l»nil(lini;s  never  fall.  .Indi»(',  take  those 
two  eandlos.  Colonel  (loll'e,  yon  carry  the  lantern. 
Mr.  Murray,  you  and  1  will  take  a  torch.  Here,  U't  me 
t»()  ahead.  1  have  nieasiued  this  line  hefore."  And 
with  this  he  started  carefnllv  on,  we  following-. 

Slcjwlv,  with  the  aid  of  our  lii;hted  torches,  we  worked 
our  way  toward  the  clilV  for  the  one  hinidicd  and  lifty 
allotted  feet.  Then  Mr.  l*e|>|)erell  ran  the  line  two 
hundred  feet  to  the  left.  I  lis  memory  had  evidently 
retained  a  vivid  remeud)rance  of  the  trail,  for  he 
hesitated  at  no  ])oint  of  it.  At  the  end  of  the  two 
hundred  feet  he  turned  ol)li(|uely  to  the  hd't,  and  the 
eiiihtv  feet  hrouuht  us  to  the  very  front  of  the  <>i<»auti(! 

ciiir. 

"  Where  is  your  cdh'ni  'f  "  1  cried  exultantly,  not 
douhtinj;"  hut  that  a  snow  slide  had  swej)t  it  into  the 
Fraser.  "  Where  is  the  eahin  that  the  '  C  '  stands 
for  on  the  diagram,  Mr.  I'e])))ereU  ?  " 

"  Here   it   is,"    he   res])onded  ])rom))tlv.     "  Look  !  " 


»ri 


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Photographic 

Sciences 
Corporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14S80 

(716)  872-4503 


■t^  #?  ^    A 


^o 


i/.. 


■■■ 


284 


DAYLIGHT   LANJ). 


,t;  .,' 


and  he  lifted  his  torch  to  the  face  of  the  cliff  and,  lo ! 
there,  painted  on  the  front  of  the  vock  was  a  letter 
"  C  "  ! 

An  exclamation  escaped  us  as  we  crowded  close  up 
to  the  led«»e  to  inspect  it. 

It  was  a  monstrous  letter,  at  least  three  feet  in  its 
perpendicular  length  and  fully  two  feet  across.  It 
was  painted  in  some  j^ray  mixture  which  nearly  matched 
the  color  of  the  rock,  and  was  not  discernahle  save  upon 
close  inspection.  It  was  enlarged  at  the  back  of  it, 
and  united  at  the  cmved  extremities  so  that  it  rudely 
resembled  the  shell  of  a  clam  even  as  our  artist  has 
drawn  it. 

"  What  in  the  world  does  this  mean,  sir  ?  "  I  ex- 
claimed, looking"  at  Mr.  Pepperell. 

His  response  to  this  interrogation  was  singularly  di- 
rect and  instructive.  He  took  a  chisel-shaped  instru- 
ment from  one  pocket,  and  a  hammer  from  another, 
and  placing  the  edge  of  the  sharp  steel  at  the  central 
point  of  the  letter,  where  the  lines  connected  the  ex- 
tremities, struck  it  sharply  with  the  hammer,  and  a  sec- 
tion of  the  rock  coincident  with  the  painted  form  of 
the  letter  stirred,  and  we  saw  that  it  was  only  a  cun- 
ningly devised  door  fitted  to  an  aperture  in  the  ledge. 
"  Great  heavens  !  "  I  cried,  "  the  C  of  the  diagram 
by  the  river  does  not  mean  cdbiu  at  all,  but  a  cave  !  " 

"  Precisely,"  returned  Mr.  Pepperell  complacently. 
"  It  took  me  a  long  time,  but  I  guessed  the  trick  at 
last.  Gentlemen,  will  you  enter  the  hermit's  cave  ?  " 
And  he  stepped  through  the  strange  door  while  we 
followed. 


,  ii 


THE   IIEIIMIT  OF  FKASER  CANOX. 


285 


The  sensation  we  experienced  as  we  passed  thr()nL»h 
tliat  stianoely-contrived  entrance  and  stood  in  the  niys- 
terious  apartment  can  better  he  imagined  than  (h'- 
scrihed.     We  were  too  astonished  at  wliat  we  saw  to 


n 


say  a  w(n'd.  We  stood  and  o'azed  in  sih'nt  ama/enient 
at  what  we  l)ehehl  revealed  by  the  Roht  of  lantern, 
candle,  and  torch. 

The  cave  was  of  laroe  size,  lar<>('r  than  an  oidlnary 
chamber.     Tn  the  centre  stood    a  table  stronulv  con- 


2S() 


DAYLKJIIT   LAND. 


l'> 


i    t 


Mi    ::|i  ?■  : 


■r   ]' 


sti'ucted,  the  le<»'s  of  wliicli  were  <»Totesqnely  carved. 
Skill,  patience,  and  artistic  cleverness  had  wrought  out 
its  sti'anj»e  and  ludicrous  designs.  On  the  smooth  sur- 
face of  it  a  clown's  head  was  curiously  traced,  the 
face  of  which  was  indescribahly  luunorous.  It  was 
jMirth's  own  countenance  in  the  act  of  lau<»hin<»'.  The 
wall  of  one  side  was  literally  covered  with  portraits  of 
men,  animals,  and  strange  pictures  bcnn  of  mad  con- 
ceit. Here  a  death's  head  «>Tinned  at  us.  Below  it 
a  culprit  was  hanging;  from  the  oallows-har,  the  face 
brutal,  contorted,  and  the  dangling'  body  horribly 
flexed,  —  a  dreadful  bit  of  realistic  work  to  haunt  the 
memory  and  terrify  sleep.  In  juxtaposition  to  it  was  a 
foundering  shij),  in  the  act  of  going  down,  the  stern 
already  under  water,  the  prow  lifted,  and  men  clinging 
to  the  riogiuii', 

"  This  is  horrible  !  "  said  the  Judg-e  as  he  stood  gaz- 
ing.     ''  The  man  was  mad." 

"  Perhaps,"  answered  Mr.  Pepperell.  "  But  look  on 
this  side.  Hold  up  your  lights,  all  of  you.  I  want 
you  to  get  the  full  effect." 

We  turned  with  hands  uplifted,  holding  the  lights 
high. 

A  canvas.  And  on  the  canvas  the  portrait  f)f  a 
woman.  A  woman  in  the  full  bhxmi  of  her  loveliness. 
A  brunette.  The  '''  Queen  of  the  Creoles  "  she  miuht 
have  been  when  living,  so  rich,  so  ripe,  so  perfect  was 
she.  A  visi(>n  of  female  possibility  such  as  floats  in 
the  air  before  the  eyes  of  the  o])ium  eater,  as  he  lies 
half  asleep  in  his  sensuous  heaven.  Her  head  was 
small,  shapely,  and  crowned  with  braids  of  glossy  black- 


'■  f 


THE   IIKRMITOF    FHASKH   CANOX. 


1>87 


■   I 


oaz- 

c5 


itilits 

If 


iiess.  Her  eves  v,'ere  lar<»e,  1<)iil>-,  softly  blaek,  like  the 
star-lii»lite(l  dusk  of  a  ti'oj)ieal  nii^lit.  Her  lips  were 
full,  curved,  sliohtly  parted.  The  rounded  lu'ck  and 
shoulders  were  modestly  revealed,  and  the  hare,  ])er- 
fectly  modeled  arms  were  lifted  as  to  a  loved  one  eom- 
in<»'  to  their  end)raee.  The  face  was  full  of  fire,  of  ])as- 
sion,  of  expectancy.  But,  oh,  horrihle,  horrihle  sight ! 
A  (ffif/fje}'  wfis  driceu  to  vV.s  hl/f  ht  her  hred.sf ! 

"  My  God  !  "  exclaimed  the  Judne.  "  This  is  too 
dreadful !  "  and  he  turned  his  back  to  the  picture  shud- 
deringly. 

"  What  do  you  make  of  it  ?  "  I  asked,  as  I  turned 
away  from  the  same  impulse.  ''  Judg'e,  what  do  you 
make  of  it  ?  " 

"  Make  of  it  ? "  he  responded.  "  It  is  perfectly 
clear  that  that  lovely  woman  Avas  his  wife,  his  love,  or 
his  mistress,  and  she  was  nuirdered  in  the  very  act  of 
embracing  Inm,  and  his  awful  punishment  or  fate  drove 
him  mad.  This  cave  of  his  is  an  artistic  bedkun,  a 
mad  painter's  hell." 

"  I  think,"  said  Colonel  Goft'e,  "  he  murdered  her 
himself.  He  cau<»ht  her  in  the  act  of  unfaithfulness, 
and  his  hand  drove  that  dao'ii'er  home.  The  reniem- 
brance  of  it  made  him  mad." 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  Mr.  Pe])perell,  "  seat  yourselves 
around  this  table.  I  wish  to  show  you  something.  1 
spent  a  night  in  this  cave,  and  I  discovered  scniie  of  its 
secrets." 

"  Why  did  you  not  stay  and  find  them  all  out  ?  " 
I  asked.     "  You  certainly  had  made  a  good  start." 

"  Simply  because  I  was  afraid  to  stay  longer —  afi-aid 


»' 
* 


r  I 


:  i 


»   r 


I  ''    i> 


2S8 


DAYr.KJlIT  LAND. 


I  slioiild  jvo  mad  mysolf  if  T  did,"  lio  answorod.    "Loolc 


•».i.|.i^i;iinif^wi;l)yy)WilWilLI^»|ilip|||;ypi,l  in  ijjia||P)iy^y|j|||||^   ij^^  |  j   j  niln|lMill>nw 


le 


said,  and  drawint;' 
out  a  leaf  of  the  manuscript,  he  handed  it  to  me. 

It   Avas    a    beautiful   bit    of  artistic   end)ellishinent. 


Tirn    HKIJ.MIT   1)1"    FI5ASKR  CANON. 


'JS9 


Tlic  text  was  delicately  ]»iiiite<l.  Kaeli  capital  letter 
^vas  oinaiueiited  with  some  lovely  <»r  (|iiaint  device, 
while  around  tlu'  sheet  was  a  horder  of  vines  an<l 
flowei's  beautifully  executed.  It  was  u  metrical  com- 
position.    Jlere  it  is  :  — 


'  f    " 


he 


F()H(iOTTEN. 

I  passed  the  gates  of   Death,  and  in  IJic  Hj^lit 

J   looked   to  sec  those   whom   I    thoni;lit  to  meet. 

]>iit  none  were  there.      I   knew  no   Ans^el  face. 

Tiuiy  wiio  had  j^one  Ix'fore,  yea  even  theses 

A\'ho  with  love's  di-ead  of  ])artin<>'  from  the  loved 

Were  torn  from  out    my  arms,   liad    found   new    loves, 

And  now  were  fixed  forever  in  new  li\('s. 

They  had  forgotten  me.      And  there   I   stood 

At  Heaven's  gate,  and  saw  that  I  nmst  take 

Tlie  old  search  nj)  to  find  some  faithful  one 

To  serve  and  love  me  as  1   had  been  loved. 

I  eonld  not  do  it.     Nay,  I  was  too  faint, 

Too  tired,  from  the  old  seeking,  out  of  which 

I  liad  jnst  come.     I  turned,  and  from  the  gate 

Called  Beautiful  I  downward  wcmt  nnto 

Those  other  gates,  within  which  lies  a  land 

All  cold  and  dim,  to  whicli  those  go  at  wish 

Who  have  lost  all,  and  iind  —  forgetf ulncss. 

Into  this  land,  cold,  dim,  and  dark,  I  went, 

That  being-  thus  forgot  I  might  forget. 

"  That 's  a  strange  thini>%"  said  the  Judg-e. 

"  Here  's  another,"  remarked  Mr.  Pe])])erell,  and  he 
lianded  me  the  second  sheet.  ''  Head  that."  I  did  as 
re(j[uested,  and  read  :  — 


■•i 


: 


V 


21)0 


UAYLKJIir    LAND 


■|» 


A   VISIT. 

Hcyond  tlio  j^lorious  <;iitcs   I    met  a  soul 
I'liat  on   tlic  t'artli  had  been   bctrotlied  to  inc. 
Sli(!  lovrd       '.  with  tho  h)vo  of  tune  and  sense, 
rh((  love  \      eh  women  give  to  mortal  men. 
And  out  ot*  whieh  eonie  births,  and  latei',  <;raves. 
In  joy   I   ran  to  Ium'  with  arms  outstretched  — 
Outstit'tehed  to  told  her  in  my  fond  cmhracc, 
And  with  warm  lips  press  kisses  on  licr  mouth 
As   I    had  (hme  in  the  dear  days  helow. 
lint  she  with  staitled  eyes  stared  full  at  me, 
And   s])eeehless   stood,  us  if   struck  dund)  with  frii^ht 
At  sijiht  so  stranye  she  knew  not  what  it  meant. 

I  ,:i)oke  her  name.     Tliat  name  wiiich  was  to  me 
As  sweet  as  cry  of  ncw-hoin  l)ahc  to  her 
AViio  in  her  ])ain  hears  that  sun^  sii»n  of  life. 
And  panting  feels  the  joy  of  motherhood. 
I)ut  she  stood  coldly  still,  nor  gave  a  "ign 
That  slu^  remembered  either  name  or  me. 
A   new  name  had  been  given  her  above. 
In  (l((ath  she  lost  one  life,  another  found. 
And  what  she  found  was  not  as  MJiat  she  lost. 
She  knew  not  me  nor  any  thing  that  was. 
And  so  I  turned  and  gladly  journeyed  down 
To  earth  and  human  life  and  its  warm  loves. 


"  This  is  uiicanny  business,  this  rendiiio"  a  dead 
injin's  private  ])apers  without  legal  ])erniissi()ii,"  re- 
marked the  Judoe,  after  we  had  sat  in  silence  a  mo- 
ment.    "  1  feel  as  if  I  were  one  of  a  i)arty  enoaged  in 


robbino"  a  o-rave." 


■^1 


:| 


TIIK    IIKItMl'l'   OF    I  UASKil  CANON. 


21  >1 


I  detul 
re- 

hI  in 


'"Here  it  is  !  licic  it  is!"  suddenly  <'xclaiiiu'd  Mr. 
l\'[)[)ei'('ll,  as  lie  lil'ti'd  a  small  pacUai;!'  neatly  folded 
from  the  l)ottom  of  the  recess.  '"  Read  this,  Mr.  Miir- 
rav,  and  then  1  w'U  show  >-oii  somethiuii"  that  will 
startle  you,"  and  he  [»assed  a  [)ortion  of  the  j»a('ka<>o 
over  to  me. 

I  took  it  from  his  hand,  and,  smoothini;'  it  out  care- 
fully on  the  tahle,  proceeded  to  read  the  following 
stranue  eounnunication. 


TiiK  Last   Will  and  Tkstamext 

OF 

ONK     WHOSE     NAME     IS     HIDDEN,    WHO     ALONH     KNOWS 

HIMSELF,    AND    WHO    IS    KNOWN    ONLY 

UNTO  God 

AS 

The  Hermit  of  Fraser  Canon. 

/  A.U  MAD. 

"  The  proof  of  it  is  on  these  walls.  What  (hove  me 
mad  is  also  on  these  wuUs.  1  killed  her.  Guilt  is  on 
us  both.  Her  portrait.  Love.  Conscience.  Here 
have  I  lived  ei<»hteen  hundred  years  with  her  in  tor- 
ment.  The  ecstasies  of  heaven  and  the  auoiiies  of  hell 
have  been  mine.     Ha  !  ha  !  ha  !  ha  ! 

""  Yes.  I  am  mad,  hut  I  am  cunning.  My  mind 
never  stops.  It  s])ins  like  a  huzz-wheel.  1  have  more 
than  mortal  power.  I  can  live  without  food.  I  have 
clairvovant  sight.  1  can  see  the  bottom  of  the  Fraser. 
It  is  solid  gold.     I  can  hear  through  a  mountain. 

"  I  leave  my  body  and  visit  worlds.  I  come  back  and 
enter  it  again.     I   can  become  incorporeal  at  will.     I 


'•  i 


1 


M 


t 


4 


p.  s 


.  .1  f 


v)(  I'J 


DAVMdiri"    LAND. 


iiin  an  unit  ol'  [miic  conscioiisiu'ss,  a   i'ci'cptivc  t'ssonct', 
an  atom  «)l  iniiv(>i'sal  apprcluMision.      Amen. 

'"  Let  liini  wlio  would  know  a  ni\ story  read.  Lei  liini 
wlio  would  solve  it  olicv.  l-.('t  iiini  wlio  daiv,  put  his 
ear  to  the  lucast  ol'  tlic  woman  und  listen."' 

".Iud«;('  Doe,'  said  Mr.  l^eppereli,  '"  H'o  to  tlie  can- 
vas. l*ut  vour  ear  to  it  and  listen.  What  (h>  v(ui 
near  / 

"Water,"  answered  the  .Iudi;'e  in  astonishment. 
'"  The  sound  ol  runniiiL;'  water  as  it  pliinu'es  over  a  dis- 
tant fall  and  pours  sol'tiy  (h)wn  amono'  stones,"  and  he 
returned  to  his  seat  on  the  heneh. 

I  read  on. 

"Have  you  listene<l  ?  Has  the  heart  of  the  luoun- 
tahi  told  you  its  seeret  ?  Have  you  heard  the  liver 
that  pours  from  under  the  Glacier  ?  Do  you  know 
that  its  sands  are  [)ure  <»-old  ;  that  all  the  o'old  in  the 
Fraser  conies  down  that  stream  ?  I  have  seen.  I  have 
dioo'ed  my  i»rave  on  its  haidv.  I  shall  sleep,  Avhen  I 
die,  in  a  chandx-r  of  <>ohl.  He  who  finds  me  nn<;ht 
purchase  the  world.  He  will  have  all  that  man  craves 
hut  one  thiui*-.      Ife  will  not  have  love.     Hue  !   hue  ! 

"  '  He  is  mad,'  "  you  who  read  say.  So  I  am.  1  know 
it.  But  I  am  cunning'.  The  hidden  I  found,  and  what 
1  found  I  have  hidden.  1  mock  y(m.  1  laui»h  fnmi 
where  1  am  hidden.  My  eves  are  on  you.  I  am  near, 
a  foot  away,  a  yard  distant,  a  span  off.  Wliy  don't 
von  find  me  ?  I  am  orinnino-  -it  you  at  this  moment. 
llo!  hc)!" 


!|: 


■•I 


Tin;  iii:i!.Mri'  or  i'i;asi;i:  canox. 


2!  1:5 


•  This  is  the  rjiviiii;  itl'  ihimIiicss,"  I  ('X(;l;inu('(l.  "  1 
will  read  no  moic  ol'  the  trash/'  and  I  thii'W  tho  slurt 
on  tlu^  tal)l(>. 

•'  lu-ad  (o  thr  end,"  cried  Mr.  IVpperell.  "  Head 
to  the  end  ol"  it,  then  1  will  show  ^oii  soniethin;;'.'' 
Thus  iir«i'ed  I  read  on. 


"Are  yon  wis((?  Aic  yon  hravt;?  Are  you  enii- 
niui;?  (an  you  read  ;i  riihile  that  is  j)lain  ?  Then 
read  the  riddle  that  I  writer  on  the  [»aj»e  that  conies 
next. 


s 


"Here  it  is,"  <'ried  Mv.  l*e])])erell.  "Hero  is  tho 
])ai;'e  that  comes  next,  and  on  it  the  uiadnian's  riddle. 
Who  can  icad  it  ?  " 

A  white  sheet  oF  [)a|)er,  hianUly  white,  tliat  was  all  ! 

"What  can  you  make  of  it?"  It  was  Mr.  I'ep- 
perell  that  put  the  <pu'stion. 


a 


Make  of  it?   NothiuL.-,"  1 


r.? 


answe 


red.     "  T\w 


luan 


Avas  iua( 


i( 


Wait  a  iiionu'nt,"  he  said.     "  Now  look  !  "  and  lif't- 


>f  tl 


one  or  rue  candles  undei 


ll( 


(h 


ing-  the  hlank  sheet  he   held 

it    a  moment,  and  out   of  the  Avhite  blankness  started 

this  sentence  in  letters  red  as  blood. 

"  J/c  tr/fo  culls  thcHc  Iclhrx  forfli  cdlls  iiic  from 


t  " 


mfj  f/race  !     I  (nn  here  trifh  //otf 

And  he  drop])ed  the  sheet,  acr(>ss  Avhose  Avhite  sur- 
face stretched  the  i-ed  lines,  u]nm  the  tahle. 

We  were  on  our  feet  like  a  Hash  —  we  three  who 
had  been  sittinj*' —  on  our  feet,  starin<»-  at  the  red  let- 
ters,  and  at  Mr.  Pepperell,  and  at  each  other. 


t 


(.    I 


,   * 


1>!I1 


DAYI.KIIir    LAND. 


II 


"  (li'iitlcnu'ii,"  he  sjiid,  "  I  <;(»t  tlms  f'jir  n  vcar  a'»() 
and  st<>|»|»»'(l.  I  Wits  aldiic,  rniM'iiilK'r,  and  1  went  out 
<»l'  this  cave  liki'  a  scarol  Itoy.  Hut  i  am  not  idonc  to- 
nij^lit,   and    I  stay   it  tluou^li,  wlu'tlu-r  livino-  op  dead 

(•((UM'.  Will/  !  " 

Was  it  a  sound?  Yt's.  It  was  a  sound,  'riio 
sound  of  one  niovinj;-.  Or  was  it  the  wind  oulsidu? 
Which?  We  licld  our  lucaths,  listening;'.  iMy  lu-art 
sounded,  as  it  heat  in  my  l)r<'ast,  hko  a  hrll. 

'•  Tiu'  rii/irns  !  tin;  cniinis  !  7'/ir  trituifni  is  imn'' 
iiiij  J'roiii  I  hi'  irn///^  wliispt'i'L'd  th(!  .ludj^c  luiai'sclv, 
and  his  face  w  hitcni'd  to  the  coU)i'  of  cliallv. 

"This  is  nonst'uso,"  I  said,  pullinu;'  uiysidF  tooctlicr 
stoutly,  hut  my  veins  shriveled  lioriihiy,  and  the  roots 
of  my  hair  iniclded  in  my  sealp.  '*  'I'liis  is  nonsense. 
It  was  tlie  wind  tliat  did  it,"  and  I  took  a  (piick  stej) 
forward  and  phieked  the  canvas  witli  a  jerk  from  tho 
wall. 

'•'  Ml/  (f'lxJ  !  "  It  was  the  Judoc's  voice,  and  I  lieard 
him  drop  heavily  on  to  tlu'  hench. 

liack  of  the  canvas  stood  a  man  !  The  madman 
himself  !  Fie  was  orinnino-  insanely  at  us.  And  then, 
with  a  yell,  he  jumped  full  at  me. 

The  tahle  was  overturned  and  every  li«»ht  extin- 
iiiiished. 

We  w(»re  not  cowards,  nor  were  we  ])ro()f  ag'ainst 
such  a  shock.  We  acted,  I  presume,  as  any  four  men 
would  naturally  act  whose  senses  had  heen  thus  sud- 
(h'nly  and  fri<jjhtfully  assaulted.  We  prohahly  all 
yelled  —  I  don't  know  —  I  know  I  did,  as  I  jumped 
backward. 


Ir 


Tin:  iiKU.Mir  of  i'uasku  canon. 


:tiu- 
inst 

IIUMI 

hud- 

all 

kped 


No  iM;m  liviiiii'  cuiild  liavc  stood  iiimiovi'd  such  a 
revelation  as  tlic  tail  ot  that  canvas  made,  'i^ie  hrst 
tlioiiiiht  that  came  to  me,  in  tlu;  recoil  of  leclinti'  :ni(l 
resultant  retniii  (d'  sense,  was  for  lit;ht.  I  iVIt  lor  my 
matches  and  si  nek  one  niechanieally.  Mr.  I'e|»|»erell 
kindled  u  fnsee  at  the  same  instan*.  We  lii;hte<l  the 
candles,  then  the  lantern,  and  lor  a  moment  stood  look- 
iiiii"  ut  each  other. 

''See!"  said  Mr.  Pepperell,  as  he  pointed  at  the 
hole  in  the  wall  where  the  canvas  had  hnnu'.  it  was 
an  aperture  in  the  side  of  the  cavern  ;  a  larii-e,  ohlon^' 
crevice  in  ihe  clilV  ;  the  entrauet'  to  an  interior  passage 
which  led  dee])er  into  tlu'  mountain. 

'•  Tlu!  riddle  is  sohed  any  way,  ^^r.  l'ej)])erell,"  I 
.said.  '"•  It  was  no  oliost,  hut  a  man.  He  sli|)ped  as  he 
jumped  at  me  and  struck  tlie  floor  like  a  ^ood  solid 
Iiuman  hein<>'.  S(!e.  There  is  l)h)0(I  on  the  le<»'  of  the 
tahle.  He  hit  it  head  on.  The  Hermit  of  Fraser 
Canon  is  not  dead.  He  is  some  eseaj)ed  maniac. 
There  is  neither  truth  nor  reason  in  ins  words  or  acts. 
That  portrait  is  a  lie.  I  (h)n't  helieve  he  ever  killed  a 
^voman  'm  knew  one  that  was  killed.  It  is  all  a  mad 
fancy  of  his,  an  insane  delusion.  What  do  you  say, 
Cohuiel  Golfe  ?  " 

"I  —  I  don't  helieve  he  ever  saw  a  woman  in  his 
life,"  said  the  Man  from  New  Hampshire,  dryly. 

Strang'e  that  a  sin<;le  sentence  neither  wise  nor  very 
witty  eonld  affe^'t  us  so  happily,  but  tiiat  light  remark 
of  the  Colonel  acted  as  a  sedative  to  our  excited  nerves. 
It    hrouiiht   us  to    our   senses  and   normal    coiulition. 


',1 

I 


■i| 


I 


W 


e  were 


all 


ourselves  auain. 


t 


il 


ft 


2!)0 


DAYI.ICIIT    LAND. 


■■'I'll: 


"  Conic,"  said  tlic^  Jiidoe.  "  Take  tlio  paiR'is,  Mr. 
Mm  ray,  and  let  us  ^vt  out  of  this.  Now  that  we 
know  wliat  this  liole  in  the  mountain  is,  I  feel  as  it*  I 
were  in  the  cell  of  some  lunatic  asylum.  1  will  roll  uj) 
the  canvas  and  hriiig  it  alonj^'.  It  may  help  us  dis- 
cover who  he  is,  or  where  his  friends  are.  We  nuist 
find  the  poor  fellow  if  we  rally  the  country  and  hunt 
him  a  month.  It  is  pkdnly  a  case  of  insanity.  He  is 
a  scholar  and  an  artist,  hut  overwork  or  some  accident 
lias  driven  him  mad.  It  is  a  inty  that  the  hlow  he  re- 
ceived Avhen  he  fell  did  n't  stun  him.  It  would  have 
saved  us  much  searcliin«>'." 

We  did  as  the  .)udi»e  suooested,  and  left  the  cave 
much  I'elieved  in  our  feelings  and  well  content  with  the 
outcome  of  our  strani»e  adventure.  IJut  we  had  not 
come  to  the  end  of  it.  It  was  to  he  a  ni<»ht  of  sur- 
prises  in  fact,  and  the  hiooest  one  yet  awaited  ns.  For, 
as  we  drt  w  near  the  iiat  le(li»'e  hy  the  river,  our  camp- 
fire  was  hurnini;'  hrii»litly  and  a  man  was  sittini*'  hy  it 
hathini»-  his  face  in  some  water. 

If  iras  flic  mdihitdn  of  tlic  care  ! 

"  Gentlemen,"  he  said,  addressino-  us  as  we  ap- 
proached, "  1  am  an  artist.  1  was  sketching'  the  Canon 
hy  moonlight,  and  slipping,  fell  from  a  ledi>e.  I  <»()t 
here  with  i>reat  diificidty.  I  do  not  rememher  how, 
for  I  struck  my  head  against  a  sharp  rock  as  I  fell,  and 
was  partially  stunned.  T  snw  your  camp-fire  and 
crawled  to  it,  and  have  taken  the  liherty  of  using-  one 
of  your  napkins  to  free  my  face  from  hlood."  This 
was  spoken  in  a  feehle  voice,  hut  accurately  and  ration- 
ally, and  we  instantly  realized   fhat   the  bio  to  he  had 


4  ■ 


"i 

u 

A 


•Ml 


TlIK    IIHILMIT   OF    FKASKi:    CANON. 


21)' 


rccc'ind  OH  li'iK  /i('i(f  (IS  III'  JKiHjnil  from  f/ic  U'lill  in 
f/ic  cure  IkkI  lUs/o/ud  Inni  thv  use  of  liis  fncii/tii  s^  hut 
lifl  the    tihic   Inlirit  It  /lis  dccii/citt  iiiid  his  rcvoccril 


a 


bidtik 


"  1  am  soiuethlno'  of  a  sur<>c'()n,"  I  said  pleasantly, 
"  and  with  yonr  porniission  I  avIII  assist  you  to  dress 
your  wound,"  and  1  stc'j)[)e(l  to  his  side. 

'"  You  are  very  kind,"  he  returned  I'eehly,  '^  very  kind. 
1  am  <;rateful  to  God  that  the  aeeident  happened  where 


it  did, 


so   near  vour  eanip 


P 


for  I 


:nn 


feeling' 


\ery  weak, 


and  1  eould  not  have  crawled  far.  It  was  very  foolish 
of  nu'  to  sj)end  a  ni^ht  alone  in  this  Gori»e,  hut  its  suh- 
limities  attracted  me  irresistihly.  I  feel  it  is  destined 
to  he  noted  the  worhl  over  and  I  longed  to  he  the  lirst 
to  ])ut  on  canvas  a  moonlight  and  sunrise  view  of  it. 
If  this  Idow  shouhl  prove  serious,"  he  continued  more 
feehly,  h)okin<»'  np  into  my  face  as  1  was   carefully  re- 


m 


ovino'  the    hair   from    the  ediies  of  the  uash, 


iC 


njy 


studio  is  in  New  Orlea 


ns. 


1  1 


lave  no  i( 


lati 


ves  m  tnis 


th 


coun.try  hut  my  hetrothed,"  and  here  a  slight  flush  came 
to  his  face.     "  My  hetrothed  is  a  lady  of  that  city,  a 


Miss  De  Fcmtaine  "  — 

"  He  has  fainted,"  I  said  (piietlv 
onful  from  your  hranc 


Colonel  Goll'e, 


pour 


me  a 


spo 


} 


dy  riask 


i 


J'.-^i'VtsW" 


!  i 


CHAPTER   XV. 


FISH    AM)    FIHHIN(J    IN    BRITISH    COLUMBIA. 


■  Till'  wealth  of  waters." 


E  were  all  aiiglers,  and  our  journey 
through  British  Colunihia  from  the 
Shuswaj)  Lake  region  to  Vancouver 
was  full  of  the  keenest  interest  to  us. 
We  crossed  the  Columhia  three  hun- 
dred and  seventy  miles  from  Van- 
couver and  entered  Eagle  Pass,  which  opens  a  way 
tluough  the  Gold  Range,  amid  magnificent  scenery. 
The  valley  is  crowded  with  forest  trees  of  giant  size 
and  of  many  varieties,  which  enrich  the  landscape  with 
a  spleiided  arhoreous  appearance.  The  train  rolls  past 
lovely  lakes,  as  liose  limpid  waters  stretch  from  base  to 
base  of   the  opposite  mountains,  and  suggest  to  the 


KISII   AND    FISIIIN(^   IX    HRITISII   COLl'MHIA.      1>*M) 


tourist  the  beautiful  lochs  of  Scothiiid.  Beyond,  are 
the  great  Shuswaj)  Lakes,  to  wliicli  sportsmen  from  all 
parts  of  the  continent  are  destined  to  con  e.  At  Sica- 
mous,  huntino-  parties  can  find  acconnnodation  and 
make  their  arrangements  to  enjoy  the  sport  easily  ac- 
cessible frcmi  it  as  a  starting  point.  Tlie  nortlnvard- 
o()ing  trails  will  conduct  them  to  the  caribou  grounds, 
and  to  the  south  deer  are  found  in  abundance.  Geese 
and  ducks  in  their  season  abound  in  these  lakes,  whose 
great  extent,  beautiful  shores,  and  accessibility  com- 
mend them  to  the  great  fraternity  of  rod  and  g'un. 
These  bodies  of  inland  water  are  fed  by  torrents  and 
mountain  streams,  but  are  themselves  tranquil,  s})read- 
ing  out  in  placid  reaches  of  great  extent  between  the 
surrounding;  hills.  Hundreds  of  miles  of  deliuhtful 
boating'  can  be  found  on  these  sheets  of  Avater,  and  the 
reii'ion  around  them  is  sufKcientlv  settled  and  cultivated 
to  easily  furnish  supplies.  But  the  vast  region  around 
about  these  lakes  is  wholly  unexplored  or  essentially  so, 
and  he  Avho  loves  adventure  in  an  unknown  country 
can  be  accommodated  to  any  extent.  I  hope  these 
words  will  prompt  many  young'  and  vig'orous  sportsmen 
to  visit  this  charming  and  most  attractive  section  of  the 
continent,  now  made  so  easy  of  approach  to  them,  and 
that  from  them  I  may,  with  all  who  love  the  outdoor 
life,  receive  spirited  descriptions  of  this  now  almost 
wholly  un visited  region. 

The  fish  supply  in  the  rivers  and  the  coast  waters  of 
British  ColuKibia  is  simply  beyond  estimate.  No  one 
who  has  not  visited  the  country  and  seen  with  his  own 
eves   can  credit  the  most  conservative  statement  of  it. 


t  * 


;   I 


!'♦ 


■ 

'i 

i 

111 

n 

I 


?i 


I 


:}0(i 


DAViJdirr  hAxi). 


Ill  the  Fiascr  IJivcr  tlic   toiiiist  Ix'liolds  a   plu  iioniciial 
condition   to   wliich   there   is  no  parallel   in  any  other 


ii-**«S»/-ti'*^"5^'   ■'■■'m 


lt„:s»»^'~ 


'*'»»»•«»*.«* 


^^■ 


section  of  the  continent  or  in  any  other  land.  Only 
in  the  Columbia  River  does  the  Fraser  iind  a  rival. 
F'ive  species  of  salmon  frecpient  this  river,  and  in  in- 
credible numbers.  In  many  of  the  tributaries  of  it 
they  literally  pack  the  water  solid  from  bank  to  bank. 


f 


FISH    AND    I'lSlIIXd    IX    i!i:il"ISlI    COM  MIMA.     IJOl 

Tlic  ])()()1s  i'(>s('in1>l('(l  ])m'S('  nets  when  iill<'(l  to  tlic 
Hoats.  Ill  tlic  (/aiioii  of  tlic  Ki-iscr  in  siinuiicr  iiioiitlis 
millions  ol'  tlicsc  lisli  can  Ix;  seen  From  tlic  car  windows, 
})ack('(l  ii  ;^v)  the  eddies  of  the  torrent  stream  or  rest  inf- 
ill the  lec!  of  rocks  and  [)rojections,  oatherini;-  stren<;th 
for  another  riisli  u[)ward  throui;h  the  tremulons  water. 
It  is  a  novel  {iiid  |Mctin('S(|ne  sij^lit  foi-  the  tonrist 
to  oaze  at.  All  aloni*'  the  l)anlvs,  and  on  the  pioject- 
ino-  rocks  stands  the  Jndian,  s])ear  in  hand  ;  he  snd- 
denly  rises  to  his  full  height,  liis  sinewy  arms,  haicd 
to  the  shoulder,  i;leamino-  in  the  sun,  and  from  his 
nervous  <>rasp  is  launched  his  salmon  s[)ear.  Well 
aimed,  surely  sent !  A  stru<»'i>le,  a  splashing',  and  a  i»lis- 
tenini»"  iish  is  lifted  from  the  water  and  lies,  silvery 
white,  on  the  brown  le(li;e  at  the  sjjearman's  feet. 

First  of  all  in  the  spring"  comes  u])  the  silver  salmon, 
a  beautiful  Hsli  to  look  upon  ;uid  often  of  ma<»nilicent 
size,  varyinn'  from  five  to  seventy  i)ounds.  Their  run 
beii'ins  in  March  and  Lists  until  the  last  of  .June. 
Then  come  a  small  s[)ecies,  but  greatly  prized,  aver- 
a<»in<»;  about  five  pounds  in  weight.  Their  flesh  is 
brightly  pink.  This  is  the  kind  that  is  most  sought 
for  canning'  purposes.  They  run  from  June  until 
August.  Next  in  order  is  an  excellent  variety,  nuicli 
esteemed,  averaging  some  seven  pounds  in  weight. 
Then  c(mies  an  anomaly  among  salmon,  the  ''  noan  " 
or  "humpbacked,"  whose  run  lasts  fr(mi  August  into 
winter,  but  which  visits  the  river  but  once  in  two 
years.  And  hist  of  all,  in  8e})tend)er  the  "  hook- 
bill  "  ai)pears,  a  fisli  that  weighs  as  high  as  twenty-hve 
poiuids,  and  disappears  at  Christmas.     Such  is  the  list 


i 


H 


;j()'2 


DAVI.KiHT    LAND. 


of   till!    Fiasoi*   llivei'  sjilmon    and  their  cliaiaetciistics, 


^:| 


I 


'"'Wit  i^Sm''  viim,^  ^^ 


FISH    AND    KISIIIXd    IN    IM5ITISH   COLL'MI'.IA. 


UK 


iiiir  the  siiiid  on  the  bars,  and  tlic  Indians  are  siu'arlii"' 
salmon  in  the  whirlpools  and  rapids  of  the  Canon.  It' 
a  j)arty  canqK'd  amid  sncli  scenery  and  novel  snrronnd- 
in<»'s  did  not  lind   rare  enjoyment,  it  wonld   l)e  heeanse 


•tl 


ot  sonietlnnii'  mneren 


itly  dep 


(1 


>rave(l  or  cross-iiianied   ni 


I 


their  constitntions.  I  speak  with  deiiheration  when  1 
sav  that  1  know  not  one  loeality  on  the  continent  1 
would  so  ([iiiekly  seleet  for  a  party  of  intellii^cnt  and 


eouiienia 


peoi 


lie  to 


»l» 


f 


cami)  a  lew  weeks  as 


the  C 


;(ii(>n  o 


f 


the  Fraser.     It   is   the  one   spot  of  all  others  tor  tl 


i(i 


d   it 


amateur  ph()to<>Tapher  and  tlie  artist  to  visit,  an( 
would  be  a  real  l)eiu'fit  to  the  h)vers  of  nature  in  its 
sublime  and  stranj^e  aspects  to  have  put  within  their 
reach  pictorial  presentations  of  this  awful  chasm. 

In  addition  to  the  salmon,  the  fresh-water  streams 
and  lakes  abound  with  i>anje  lish.  Whitelish,  salmon 
trout,  brook  trout,  and  big  lake  trout  are  found  in 
abundance    everywhere.     A    rodsman   can    iind   ])rime 


sDor 


n 


t  Avl 


h 


lerever  lie  jioos 


tl 


irouti 


\i  tl 


U3 


pr 


ovuice,  u 


hetl 


ler 


amoiiii'  the  inland  lakes  aiul  rivers  or  alonii'  the  coast 
waters.  There  is  no  other  stretch  of  coast  on  the 
fflobe  alonii"  which,  and  in  the  rivers  floAvini»'  into  it,  so 
many  varieties  of  edible  fish  are  caught  as  off  the 
shore  and  in  the  streauis  of  British  (Jobunbia.  Beside 
the  salmon  and  trout  are  the  halibut,  the  cod,  the 
mackerel,  the  haddock,  the  rock  cod,  the  flounders, 
and  that  delicious  tidl)it  of  marine  delicacy,  the  o(»la- 
han  or  candle  fish.  This  little  fish  is  of  the  size  of  a 
sardine  and  has  a  flavor  ])eculiarly  its  own,  so  ])i(piant 
and  delicate  as  to  justify  its  ckiim  of  beino-,  par  e.rcc/- 
I<)i('<\  an  epicurean  nu)rsel.  Pre) tared  for  the  ])late 
fresh  from  the  water,  it  is  exceedinolv  delicious,  while 


if 


i-  i 


I 


1     ;[; 


^i 


i 

^1 


i 


J! 


,-1 


'M)4 


|)AVIJ(ilir    LAND. 


its  oil  is  said  to  Ix'  prcFcraldc  t<»  cod-livci'  oil  I'or  iiicdi- 
fiiial  |mr|)<»s('s.  Tlu'sc  lisli  arc  sii|»|m»simI  to  coiiic  I'lom 
far  iiorllicni  waters,  and  tlicv  come  in  nninln'rlcss 
(|nantiti('s.  Tlicy  enter  the  Fraser  ahout  tlie  lirst  ol" 
May,  and  swarm  np  its  current  as  Ix'cs  swarni  in  a 
liive.  The  hcrrinL»s  of  the  coast  are  e<[ually  nund»ei- 
less.  Tiicse  are  somewliat  sniaik'r  tlian  tliose  found 
ahmi;'  the  siiores  of  Lal>rador  and  tlie  Hritish  Isles,  hut 
as  food  are  fully  as  ^ood  as  those  caui;ht  in  the  waters 
of  the  Atlantic.  It  is  only  when  one  adds  to  the  lish 
su|)|dv  of  eastern  Canada  the  even  lar<>'er  one  of  IJrit- 
isli  Cohnuhia,  that  the  value  of  the  Canadian  fisheries 
to  herself  and  the  world  can  be  realized. 


i: 


$' 


■«l' 


'•', ''M,"!' 


DRYING    CANDLE    FIbH 


1 


fi. 


i        i: 


CllAl'TER   XVI. 


VANCOTTVKK. 


HAT  Sun  Frjincisco  was  onco,  Van- 
couver is  now,  —  an  oak  witliin  an 
aeorn,  a  vital  root  Avell  placed,  but 
only  just  sprouted;  but  all  tbe  condi- 
tions of  a  great  city  are  bere,  and  liere 
a  great  city  is  to  be.  Coloiud  Goll'e, 
I  will  buy  tliis  corner  lot  if  you  will 

take  tbe   opposite   one,  or  I  will  toss  for  tbe  cboice. 

Wbat  say  you?"     It  was  Mr.  Pepperell  wbo  s])oke. 
"  Judge,  you  pitcb  for  us,"    replied  tbe  INIan   from 

New  IIanij)sbire,  laconically.     Up  went  tbe  cent,  and 

as  it  came  down  and  rolled  curving  tbrougli  tbe  dust, 


I 


f! 


'MM 


DAVhKilir    LAM). 


tlu'  two  spi'ciiliilois  cliiiscd  it,  l;iM;;liiii^-  lilv(>  Ixjys,  to  sco 
who  li.'id  won    tlic  lot  on  wliicli  W(;  were  staiidiiiu'. 

'*  Well,  well,"  t'xcliiiiih'd  the  .Iu(|j;(',  as  tlic  two  iiicii 
Kciinicd  over  tlu?  pt'imy,  '"you  arc;  «;('miiiu'  V'aidxccs, 
iiiid  you  typo  hoth  tlic  slncwdiit'ss  and  ri-cUlcssiicss  of 
our  count lyiucii,  who  huy  hits  of  the  continent  as 
hrokcrs  do  stocks,  and  purcliasi;  locations  as  oamhlcrs 
do  chips.  i){w  nii^'ht  fancy  that  you  think  vou  ar(> 
standin*;'  on  the  site  of  a  future  Chicago  hy  the  way 
you  are  a(!tin^." 

''  You  old  Areopa<»ite,"  exclainu'd  Mr.  I'epperell,  as 
he  wrestl(Ml  with  tln^  Colonel  for  tlu;  token.  "  We  don't 
think  any  sucrh  thinj;',  hut  we  know  that  lifty  thousand 
jK'oph!  will  have  their  honu's  hen;  on  this  ]H'niiisida 
within  twenty  years,  and  we  know  that  two  \)i*j;  huild- 
in^s  will  stand  on  these  corner  h)ts  inside  of  ii  year, 
for  we  will  huild  them  ourselves." 

"  How  do  you  Hiiure  that  out?"  retorted  tlu;  .ludtic. 
"Tl.iS  isn't  Yankee  huid,  reinend)er,  iind  Canadians 
move  slowly." 

".Iudi»e  Doe,"  res])onded  Mr.  I'(;pj)erell,  as  he  let 
«»()  his  hold  on  the  ('olonel,  and  sohered  down,  "  we 
have  been  in  this  city  two  days.  The  Colonel  and  J 
have  l)een  canvassing*  this  place,  and  we  have  sized  up 
the  outlook  to  a  shavinj;'.  The  conditions  which  nuike 
for  suc(!ess  are  all  here.  In  the  hrst  place  the  uu'U 
who  have  founded  this  city  have  the  rij>ht  stulf  in 
them.  There  is  n't  a  slow  drop  of  hlood  in  their  veins. 
They  are  not  a  j»an<>'  of  nu»re  specuhitors.  They  are 
o'entlemen  of  substance  and  character,  and  they  have 
come  to  stay.     They  have  i)ut   in  their  money,  thou- 


il: 


TOSSING    FOR    CORNER    LOTS. 


I'      i. 


I  '  ! 


VANCOUVKK. 


•  > 


11 


sjiiids  and  thousands  oF  it.  Look  at  these  soHd  hh)eks 
of  stone  and  hriek,  at  tliat  opera  house,  at  tliat  liotel 
which  nnist  have  cost  ni<»li  on  to  a  (|uaiter  of  a  mil- 
lion ;  h)ok  at  their  nas  works  and  water  works,  their 
steam  lire  -  eni«,ines,  their  miles  ot  paved  streets  and 
sidewalks,  that  ma<;'nilicent  drivini»'  ])ark,  with  its 
splendid  houlevard  clear  ar>)und  it,  tlu'ir  l)oatin«>"  cluh 
and  athletic  i;roun(ls,  those  lines  ot"  wharves  and  yon- 
der hui;e  steamships  loading'  and  unloading'  at  them. 
'  Boomers  '  and  land  i>and)lers  don't  do  such  worl 
these  mfii  have  (h)ne  here.  They  are  Americanized 
Canadians,  sir,  the  best  city  huihlers  on  the  continent, 
for  they  build  Avitli  the  solidity  of  the  English  and  the 
celerity  of  the  Yankee.  Colonel  Coil'e,  you  villain 
you,  Avhich  lot  am  I  to  take?  If  there  was  the  dill'er- 
ence  of  a  dollar  between  them,  I  would  have  you  up 
before  the  peripatetic  court  that  travels  arcmnd  with 


IS 


lis  and  com 


I 


ipel  y 


■on 


to  (1 


iso'orue. 


Vancouver  —  the  city,  1  mean,  not  the  hu<»e  island 
of  that  name  lyin«»'  thirty  miles  out  in  the  Pacific,  and 
stretchinii"  three  hundred  miles  northward  like  a  areat 
natural  breakwater,  as  it  is,  alono*  the  coast —  Van- 
coiiver  is  a  city  site,  literally  hewn  (mt  of  the  solid 
forest,  which,  with  its  <>ii»antic  tind)er  trees,  makes  the 
sea  front  of  British  Cohnnbia.  And  what  a  forest  it 
is!  An  Eastern  born  Juan  knows  nothing*  of  it  unless 
he  has  crossed  the  continent  and  actually  seen  it,  nor 
can  he  conceive  of  it,  for  the  woods  of  the  East  su])ply 
him  with  no  standard  of  com])aris()n  ;  even  the  largest 
pines  of  ]\Iichii»an  oive  him  only  a  hint  of  what  this 
miohty  forest  of  the  Pacilic  coast  really  is.     The   trees 


312 


DAYLIGHT  LAND. 


<i^'l* 


stand  from  two  liuiulred  and  fifty  to  three  hundred 
feet  in  height,  and  so  densely  packed  together  that 
progress  among  them  is  absohitely  impossible.  Large 
tracts  are  actually  destitute  of  game  because  of  the 
density  of  this  forest  growth.  Here  is  a  lumber  supply 
for  the  whole  Avorld  for  centuries  to  come.  As  a  source 
of  future  Avealth  to  the  country,  its  value  cannot  be 
overestimated.  The  market  for  this  lumber  is  found 
in  Japan,  in  China,  in  Australia,  in  San  Francisco,  in 
local  development,  and  in  that  mear.ureless  demand 
which  the  prairies,  only  five  hundred  miles  to  the  east, 
will  make  upon  it  when  they  are  peopled  with  their 
nn'llions,  as  they  soon  will  be,  and  cities  like  Minne- 
apolis and  St.  Paul  and  Dulutli  stand  on  the  great 
water-courses  which  thread  the  Mackenzie  Basin  with 


1      f 


VANCOUVER. 


3i;} 


fmmmmm 


1— UpgjIllHIIIII   llil^ll  Jl  Ml  ii»F!.ii|ai||p>M||,. 


._^  !;•■«?, 


iSK  *: 


le 

)ly 

c*e 

he 

lind 


11  e- 
eat 
ith 


possibilities  of  inland  commerce,  and  steel  pathways 
connect  them  Avith  Lake  Superior,  or  straig'ht  eastward, 
south  of  James's  Bay,  with  the  Saguenay,  at  Chicou- 
timi.  Place  the  minerals,  the  fish,  the  coal,  and  the 
forests  of  British  Columbia  in  the  one  scale,  and  how 
many  millions  of  dollars,  do  you  fancy,  you  will  have 
to  pile  into  the  opposite  scale  to  bring  the  bar  level? 
No  intelligent  American  ever  visited  this  Pacific  jirov- 
iiice  of  Canada,  and  saw  what  it  contains,  and  did  not 
grind  his  teeth  as  he  recalled  how  the  miserable,  blun- 
dering, ])artisan  politics  of  the  Polk  rfghiie,  lost  it  to 
the  Great  Republic.  Let  any  statesman  who  loves  his 
country  and  is  proud  of  its  vast  geographical  extent 
and  future  greatness,  take  a  map  of  the  Pacific  coiist 
and  see  what  a  gaj)  this  one  province  of  the  Dominion 


13  U 


DAYLKiiri"   LAND. 


makes  in  its  western  se;i  line,  —  lonoer  hy  far  tlian  the 
Atlantic  coast  from  the  Floiida  Keys  to  Cape  JJretoii. 
And,  verily,  what  did  the  Polk  administration  do  to 
make  amends  to  the  American  [)eople  for  this  crhninal 
hlnnder?  Had  I\)lk's  secretary  of  state  secured  I>rit- 
i:;!i  ('olnml)ia  for  us  as  Seward  secured  Alaska, —  well, 
things  would  now  be  a  "ood  deal  dill'erent  fiom  what 
they  are,  wouldn't  they?  The  llepuhlic  has  Ikm  li 
taxed  pretty  heavily  to  su])port  her  petty  politicians  and 
miserable  partisan  politics,  truly. 

Out  oF  such  a  forest,  as  we  said,  a  site  for  Van- 
couver City  has  been  hewn.  It  cost  three  hundred 
doUars  [)er  acre  to  merely  fell  and  burn  the  gigantic 
oTowth.  When  we  arrived,  only  two  trees  were  still 
staiuling,  and  they  were  l)urning  like  u  blast  furnace 
inside  their  hollow  trunks.  They  were  nearlv  three 
hundred  feet  in  heii»ht  and  measured  between  thirty 
and  forty  feet  in  circumference.  For  one  hundred 
and  fifty  feet  thev  rose  like  mannnoth  pillars  of  wood, 
straight  as  a  phuub  line,  bare  of  branch  or  knot.  Our 
artist  sketched  them  on  the  spot  only  an  hour  before 
they  fell  with  a  sweep,  a  rush,  and  a  roar  of  sound 
as  if  the  columns  which  uphold  the  sky  had  slij)ped 
from  their  bases  and  a  section  of  heaven  had  dropj)ed 
snddeidy — a  vast  ruin — to  the  earth.  The  earth 
trend )led  to  the  shock  of  their  overthrow,  the  air 
groaned,  and  as  the  roar  of  their  fall  rolled  across  the 
k'vel  water  of  Burrard's  Iidet,  through  the  still  air,  the 
mountains  l)eyond  sent  back  the  nuirmurs  of  their  re- 
gret. Alas,  that  life  nuist  forever  feed  its  growth  on 
death,  and  hunuui  })rogTess  advance  only  over  the  ruins 
oF  the  ])erfect  ! 


r 

; 

iv 

r 


■I 


r 


r"'U 


CEDAR,  VANCOUVER  PARK   5  J  FEET  IN  CIRCUMFERENCE, 


VANCOL'VKIJ. 


:j17 


I 
I 
I 


They  fell,  and  the  saws  went  at  them.     How  their 

senseless,  hungi'v,  cruel  teeth 
ate  into  and  destroyed  the 
majesty  of  their  suhlinie  pro- 
portions !  We  turned  away, 
from  a  sense  of  pain  and 
sheer  vexation.  In  the  even- 
ing- the  Judge  and  I  crept  up 
through  the  dehris  and  heavy 
semi-tropical  undergrowth  to 
the  crown  of  the  hill  on 
which  they  had  stood.  The 
warm  evening  air  was  tilled 
with  a  ruddy  glow,  for  a 
hundred  giant  stumps  were 
still  feehly  gasping  forth  fire. 
We  lighted  two  resinous 
torches  and  c  o  u  n  t  e  d  the 
rmgs  which  would  give  us 
the  measure  of  their  age. 
"  Six  hundred  and  iicren- 


■t...  ' 


¥^ 


ty-foiii'  ijtars  old  !  "  gasped  the  Judge,  and  he  dropped 
his  torch  to  the  ground.     "  My  God  !  these  trees  were 


18 


DAVIJOnr    I, AM). 


older  lli.in  \\\v  laiidiiii;'  of  ('oliiiiilms,  older  tliaii  M,i«;iiji 
('liarta,  older  than  the  lirst  translation  ol'  the  I>il)le  into 
Knj»lisli,  and  last  week  they  stood  with  a  tlionsand  years 
ol'  lite  ahead  oi'  them,  and  these  men  of  Vanconver 
have  levelled  them  to  tin;  earth  with  as  little  sense  of 
what  they  were  doini»"  as  the  Vandals   had  when   thev 


overtnrned     the    immoi 


tal 


sen 


ipt 


ures    o 


f     I 


iom(> 


an( 


trampled  the  triumphs  (d'  art  under  the  hoofs  of  their 
eharo'ers  !  It  is  simply  hrutul.  But  the  trees  will  have 
lonii'  and  sure  reveni>"e." 

"  I  low  is  that?"  I  (pieried,as  I  Hun*;'  my  torch  away 
in  raii'e  at  what  liud  heen  done,  for  I  shared  the  indii»- 
nation  of  my  companion.  "•  How  will  these  thou<;ht- 
less  peoples  he  punished  for  this  wanton  dei'd  ?  " 

"Mr.  iMiuniy,"  cried  the  .ludge  in  reply,  "Bos- 
ton would  <>ive  n  million  of  dollars  to  have  two  such 
trees,  <>ro\vthful  and  strono-  with  six  centuries  of  orowth 


V  r> 


iU 


11 


1(1  ten  centuries  of  life  uhead  of  them  on  her  Coiii- 
lon.  What  would  Loiidon  oive  for  two  such  monu- 
ments  ?  What  Paris?  Had  these  Vancouver  men  had 
the  reverence  or  wit  to  have  set  apart  a  spac(^  six  hun- 
dred feet  across  for  a  small  park  on  this  knoll,  —  the 
very  centre  and  crown  of  their  city,  that  is  to  be,  — 
they  would  have  made  it  the  Mecca  of  thousands  ujion 
thousands  of  visitors  each  year.  That  railroad  there 
could  have  afforded  to  pay  a  million  of  dollars  to  have 
ke[)t  these  two  oioantic  ^'•ees,  these  majestic  monu- 
ments of  [last  centuries,  liuilt  up  from  the  soil,  the  air, 
and  the  sunshine,  by  the  Lord,  standini;'  here.      There 


IS  not  a  scuhiture,  s 


Ipti 


shaft, 


or 


f 


resco  in   lionie 


1{ 


that 


can 


comjiare  Avith   these  trees  as  they  stood   but  yesterday 


lU- 


m- 


lU! 


1)11 


'I'e 


live 


Inu- 
lir, 

lore 
an 


C/1 
TJ 

c 
(  ) 
r'l 


J3 

m 


< 


< 

33 


30 

7^ 


m 
m 


o 


ly 


VANCOrVKU. 


:V2\ 


in  tlicir  iittractivciu'ss  to  tlic  eves  and  tlic  iniaiiination 
of  mm.  Tlu'sc  trct's  thus  prcscrvi'd  wonM  liavr  made 
tlicir  fitv  one  <d  i\\v  noted  cities  oF  the  world.  Kverv 
pen  tliat  came  liitiier  woidd  luive  written  of  lliem  ; 
every  pencil  have  sketclied  t!;em  ;  every  hrush  ina(h' 
them  the  fore«;ronnd  of  tliis  maonilicent  view  ;  every 
ton<iiio  tohl  of  them  to  listeninu'  ears  far  awav.  Tlu' 
lianlv  of  Kn<;lan(l  |>nt  at  tlieir  disposal  conld  not  hny 
for  them  sncli  an  advertisement  as  tliese  two  trees  liavt^ 
tliem  fret'  of  cost.  And  now  they  lie  in  tiiese  hot 
ashes  lost  to  the  worhl  forever,  hnrnin«»'  as  if  they  were 
an  oifense  to  the  eye,  a  stench  to  the  senses,  ii  collec- 
tion of  oiVal.  What  a  pity,  what  a  h)ss  !  Come,  let  ns 
«»et  away  from  this  sj)ot.  The  air  is  filled  with  the 
reproach  of  the  centnries  that  look  Jijton  their  hii;hest 
artistic  resnlt  as  (h'sj)ise(l  and  rejected  of  men.  I  shall 
always  think  of  Vancouver  as  1  should  of  lionu;  if 
St.  Peter's  were  destroyed  hy  a  moh." 

It  was  not  until  we  had  returned  to  tlu;  hotel,  and 
the  Jud<;e  had  seated  himself  at  a  tahle  in  the  supj)er 
room,  that  he  reu^ained  his  wonted  spirits.  The  vast 
and  eleji^ant  hostelry  was  filled  with  hajjpy  noises,  for  a 
band  of  strln<»ed  instrunu'nts  was  playin«»"  and  fifty 
couples  were  whirling"  thr()u<»'h  the  mazes  of  a  waltz, 
while  the  h)w  buzz  of  conversation  in  the  wide  corridors, 
and  now  and  then  a  i)eal  of  merry  lau<>hter  minoled 
pleasantly  with  the  strains  of  musi(!.  It  was  in  truth  a 
bri<;ht  and  animated  scene,  and  one  most  sugj^estive 
withal. 

"  This  is  a  most  astonisliin<;'  spectacle,"  remarked 
tlie  Judge,  as  we  sat  on  one  of  the  wide  verandas  of 


DAVI.KillT   LAND. 


tlu'  «;n'at  lioiisc,  «»;i/.iii;;"  tlii()ii!j;ii  tlic  wide  (t|u>ii  win- 
dows at  the  iiicrrv  <I:iii('1m's  wliiiliii^*  iiroiind  the  lai'<>'(; 
liall  Nvitliiii.  " 'I'wo  years  a«»'o  this  city  site  was  covered 
with  a  ini^^lity  Forest,  so  dense  tliat  even  a  l»ear  coidd 
scarcely  thread  a  way  tlir(ni<;li  it,  and  now  hehohl  what 
is  here,  —  hlocivs  oF  hrick  and  stone,  wi(h'  streets,  pave- 
ments eclioinn'  to  thi;  tread  of  a  thonsand  I'eet,  ojis, 
electric  lij;lits,  <;reen  sw'ar<h'd  lawns,  t'onntains,  flowers, 
and  a  t'ashionahh*  ho|)  in  a  hotel  that  cost  a  (piarter  oF 
a  million  oF  money.  'I'hat  train  rollin*;'  into  th(>  depot 
yonder    has  two  coaches  in   it    filled   with    liostonians. 

• 

Massachnsetts  Hay  sends  its  nrcetin<»- to  Hnrrard's  lidot. 
What  would  not  San  Francisco  have  j»iven  For  rail  con- 
nection with  the  Atlantic,  Avhen  her  census  counted 
oidy  seven  thousand.  Aiul  what  an  imjx'tus  such  a 
connection  would  have  <»iven  to  her  development.  Mr. 
Pepperell,  this  is  an  a<;('  oF  enchantment,  as  you  say. 
The  wand  oF  measureless  power  is  hein<»-  waved  over 
this  c(>ntinent,  and  no  man  (tan  predict  tlm  rare  oF  its 
j)roj;ress  in  civilization.  This  in  truth  is  the  day  when 
old  men  can  dream  dreams  and  our  y<)iin<»'  men  he- 
liold  visions.  We  Americans  and  our  Canadian  nei<;h- 
bors  must  join  hands  and  keep  them  joined  in  strong 
fraternal  clas[).  We  are  '  jthren.  The  continent  geo- 
i>raphically  is  a  unit,  and  we  who  shape  its  deveh)p- 
ment  in  wealth  and  ])o])ulation  must  sha})e  it  ah)n<ij  the 
lines  of  ail'ectionate  union.  The  Lord  of  it  will  smite 
us  in  his  wrath  if  we  do  otherwise.  The  mo()nli<»'lit 
on  yonder  mountains  and  the  music  mi<»ht  well  keep 
ii..  from  sleej),  but  we  must  start  fresh  as  boys  for  Vic- 
toria t')-m()rrow,  and  hence  the  couch  must  be  honored. 


;n 


li- 


mr 


it 


t 


The    ball. 


I, 
f": 


i 


VANCOUVKH. 


:?2r> 


Gentlomen,  I  wish  you  <»()()(l  ni<;ht,  restful  slccj),  and 
j)leasant  droanis."  And  wo  strolled  away  to  our  rooms. 
Dear  old,  courteous,  wise,  ha])py-hearted  .Tu(l<»e  — 
a  <ijeiitleiuan,  that  highest  of  titles  —  thy  face  is  a  pic- 
ture wliicli  the  memory  of  three  men  will  keep  until  all 
l)ri<]fht  pictures  fade  and  all  sweet  eartldy  things  are 
forgotten,  if  they  ever  shall  be.     Who  knows  ? 


"~! 


^Jiwi»rt«,i-.-«*^.-^ 


j^.v,gJ?.'T-.,'*^.  ^,"'       ,S^. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


THE    PARTINc;    AT    VICTORIA. 


HESE    are    not    Indians,"    said 
the  Judge,  as  ^ve  stood  on  the 
hridge     at     Victoria,     h)okinii^ 
-     .--',-^7  down     upon    a    dozen     Siwash 

canoe^  filled  with  their  stranue 
looking-    owners.      "  These    are 
not  Indiniis,"  he  rei)eated,  "  they  are  Mongolians." 

"  And  look  at  their  hoats,"  exclaimed  Mr.  Pepperell ; 
"  they  have  n't  the  least  resenihlance  to  a  l)irch-hark 
canoe.  They  suggest  the  Chinese  junks,  rather.  Oh- 
serve  their  length,  narrowness,  and  high,  projecting 
prows." 

"  Not  a  bad  hoat  for  a  heavy  sea,"  I  remarked. 
"  That  one  putting  ott'  from   the  shore  must  he  forty 


,1 


1   . 

5 
ik 

Db- 


I 


1 


TIIK    PAKTIXC;. 


:}'29 


feet  lonj;^,  and  with  her  twenty  j)a(hlles,  and  well  steered, 
would  eliinl)  safely  over  a  inii>hty  biji'  swell,  for  she  sits 
as  lii»htly  on  the  water  as  if  made  of  l)and)oo." 

"  Look  there,"  cried  Mr.  Pepi)erell,  pointing  to  a 
boat  just  coming  into  sight  from  under  the  bridge. 
"  That  is  the  Medicine  Man  of  the  tribe,  and  his  wife." 

"  Well,"  said  the  Colonel,  "  I  am  a  great  admirer  of 
the  ladies,  but  1  must  confess  that  Mrs.  ]\Iedicine  Man 
does  n't  impress  me  as  being  a  great  beauty.  What 
do  you  say.  Judge  ?  " 

"  This  is  a  very  strange  spectacle,"  responded  the 
Judge  ;  "  a  very  strange  spectacle,  indeed.  I  have  seen 
many  queer  looking  peo[)le,  but  I  have  never  seen  a 
more  singular  looking  folk  than  these  Siwasli  Indians. 
Ethnologically,  I  don't  know  where  to  place  them." 

It  was  a  strange  spectacle  in  truth.  The  river  was 
covered  with  their  long,  light,  narrow  craft.  Some 
were  shooting  rapidly  along  in  straight  courses,  some 
drifting  with  the  tide,  others  grouped  side  by  side. 
The  tribe  were  preparing  to  move  off  on  a  fishing  ex- 
cursion, and  the  low  soft  murnuu'  of  many  voices  filled 
the  air.  All  was  activity,  but  there  was  no  bustle,  no 
confusion,  no  sharp  word  of  command  or  loud  calls. 
A  pretty  sight  they  made  as  they  moved  away,  a  long 
procession  of  strange  looking  boats,  each  trailing  ex- 
actly in  line  of  the  one  ahead  of  it,  the  paddles  rising 
and  f idling  in  concert,  the  blue  water  beneath  them 
and  thei.v  high-colored  blankets  showing  brightly  in 
the  sun. 

"  Bon  voyage  !  Bon  rof/ar/e  !  "  cried  the  Judge  to 
them  as  the  last  canoe  passed  from  under  the  bridge 
on  which  we  stood,  and  glided  away. 


330 


DAYLKillT   LAND. 


Tlie  steersman,  an  old  wrinkled  8iwasli,  who  was 
staiidini»'  in  the  stern  of  the  eraft,  looked  np  at  the 
Jndo'e  and  smiled  ;  at  least  his  leathery  face  was  snd- 
denly  cnt   up  into   wrinkles,   and    his   toothless   <>iims 

showed  hetween  his  parted  lips. 

"  That  was  n't  a  had  J»'rin, 
Judge,"  said  the  Man  from  New 
Hampshire.  "  Ethnoloj^ically  I 
should  place  that  old  specimen  of 
Siwash  anti(piity  halfway  between 
a  low-bred  Monjjolian  and  a  hio-li- 
bred  ape.  Darwin  should  have  come  to  Victoria  for 
his  '  connectinii-  link.'  " 

Victoria  is  well  worth  seeing.  The  tourist  can  find 
entertainment  there.  He  can  pick  up  a  (piantity  of  in- 
teresting^ curios  and  not  be  swindled  in  so  doing'.  We 
four  spent  the  day,  happy-hearted 
as  boys  in  their  first  journey  from 
home.  Life  brings  many  losses  to 
us,  as  we  live,  but  none  greater 
than  the  loss  of  the  boyish  eye 
and  heart.  He  who  keeps  these, 
long-  after  his  head  is  white,  has 
prolonged  the  finest  pleasures  of 
life.  What  a  day  we  four  gray- 
headed  boys  had  at  this  most  western  city  of  our  race, 
thrust  out  from  the  continent  like  a  picket  in  front  of 
an  encamped  army. 

We  visited  the  fish  market  and  saw  how  royally  the 
city  was  fed  by  the  sea,  —  salmon,  trout,  halibut,  had- 
dock, cod,  the  delicious  oolahan  or  candle  fish,  and  a 


I 


THE   PAKTlNd. 


i>oi 


dozen  sorts,  some  of  them  new  to  us.  In  one  murket 
we  found  a  huge  octopus  or  devil-fish  suspended  for 
advertisement,  a  ghastly  creature,  with  tentacled  arms 
nine  fi-et  in  stretch.  The  Italians  and  Chinese  eat 
them.  And  the  marktitman  assured  us  that  "  octoj)us 
steak  was  n't  had  eating." 

"  Let  me  get  out  of  this  place," 
cried  the  Judge,  shudderingly, 
"  or  I  shall  not  eat  a  mouthful  of 
dinner  to-day." 

"  That  devil-fish,"  said  the  Man 
from  New  PIami)shire,  "  does  make 
a  man  feel  a  little  creepy  insitle, 
does  n't  it.  Judge  ?  " 

We  visited  stores  where  furs  and  skins  are  bought 
of  the  Indians,  and  the  warehouses  where  thev  arc^ 
packed.     What    a   collection   of  furs  we    saw  !     And 

there  all,  save  one  of  us,  saw  for 
the  first  time  that  finest,  rarest 
fur  of  the  world,  the  magnificent 
sea  otter.  Did  you  ever  see  one, 
madame  ?  No  ?  What  pleasure 
you  have  awaiting  you  ahead. 
Wait  until  your  white  fingers  can 
feel  their  wav  through  the  fur  of 
a  sea  otter  !  Ah,  me,  beaver  will 
never  content  you  after  that.  We 
/isited  all  the  pawnshops,  and  in  them  discovered  many 
curious  bits  brouuht  from  the  four  corners  of  the  earth, 
—  Ja])an,  China,  Australia,  New  Zealand,  the  two  In- 
dies, the  Arctic  Ocean,  Mexico,  and  Palestine,  all  had 


'S,V2 


DAYI.KillT    LAND. 


coutiibutwl  to  the  iiiii(iiie  eolleetions.  8tian<;t'  pipes, 
aiiti(iiio  arms,  mii»«»ots  of  gold,  pearls,  nido  coins,  In- 
dian armor  deftly  (|uilted.     Grotesque  masks,  flamino- 


4 


^tt 


i 


i 

•»-. 

s^g 

1 
i 

•^'  . ' 

head-dresses,  and  skins  from  every  furred  animal  of  the 
continent.  In  one  shop  we  were  shown  an  Oriental 
ruby,  the  iridescent  splendors  of  which  were  beyond 
all  conception. 


I 


THE    I'ARTING. 


;j;3;i 


"  A  stone,"  said  the  ,Iii<l«»v,  "  to  Ix;  set  in  tlio  ojite 
of  lieuven."     Tluit  (leseril)t's  it. 

TliLMi  there  were  specimens  of  Indian  workniansliip, 
carved  phites  and  salvers  of  jet  l)laeic  stone,  valned  at 
a  lumdred  dollars  eaeli ;  birds  and  lisli  and  national 
banners  fashioned  in  })ni'e  ^old,  exipiisitely  Avron^ht ; 
baskets,  woven  from  the  Hbres  of  roots,  in  wliieh  water 
can  be  boiled ;  jnveniUi  toys  in  wicker  in  loveliest  of 
colors;  bows  and  arrows  from  |)olished  bone,  tii)|)ed 
with  stone  or  steel,  dii)})ed  in  deadliest  [joisons  ;  oam- 
bling"  sticks  and  conjnrers'  robes,  and  a  hundred  and 
one  odd  things,  novel  and  most  instructive  to  civilized 
people,  —  how  much  we  saw  and  how  nuich  we  enjoyed 
it  all.     What  a  day  we  four  tourists  had  at  Victoria  ! 

Thus  pleasantly  passed  the  day,  and  pleasantly  it 
drew  to  its  close.  We  w^ere  standing'  on  the  battery 
south  of  the  city,  as  it  declined.  In  front  of  us  the 
water  stretched  away,  level  as  a  floor,  —  a  wide  emer- 
ald plain  with  the  shifting  colors  of  sunset  ])laying 
over  it,  coming  and  going,  dee})ening  and  fading.  To 
the  east  and  south  we  saw  the  snowy  peak  of  Mount 
Baker.  To  the  west  the  red  s"'i  was  going  slowly 
downward,  carrying  all  its  splenc.ors  into  the  great 
ocean  whose  farther  waves  were  rolling  in  white  far  up 
on  orient  beaches.  We  had  come  to  the  end  of  our 
journoy.  It  had  been,  as  the  .Fudge  had  predicted  at 
the  start,  a  happy  one  to  us  all,  and  with  happy  hearts 
"we  were  ready  to  turn  our  fVces  toward  our  distant 
homes.  What  a  revelation  it  had  been  to  us !  The 
Judge  was  to  take  boat  to  the  Golden  Gate,  and  we 
escorted  him  on  board,  anxious  to  be  with  one  whose 


r 


;j:m 


DAYI.KIHT    LAND. 


iiilclli^ciKM'  and  nrltanity  li.itl  ministered  so  inneli  (  » 
(Uir  eiiteitaiiinieiit  as  we  jomiieyed,  to  the  last  moment. 
"  (jientlemen,"  said  the  .)iid;^(',  'Mhis  winter  you 
nuist  all  come  to  San  Francisco,  and  he  my  <»iiests  ;  we 
will  do  (California,  Mexico,  and  Arizona,  to«;ether.  Next 
sunnner,  Mr.    lVi)i)er('ll,  you   shall   he   our  host   for  a 


week,  and  we  will  eat  heans  with  you  at  the  Somerset 
Cluh.  By  that  time  we  can  l)uy  tickets  throuj»'h  to 
Yokohama  and  H()n<^'  Konjij-,  and  see  the  West  and  the 
East,  hoth  hemispheres,  and  the;  youngest  and  oldest 
civilization  in  the  worhl  side  hy  side  in  one  trij).  Such 
opportunities  of  plea^uire  and  profit  mankind  have 
never  enjoyed  het'ore  since  the  race  was  born.  What 
say  you,  oeutlemen,  shall  we  ^o  over  and  see  the  land 
(if  the  Celestials  next  summer  ?  " 

"  Judf>'e  Doe,"  answered  Colonel  Goffe,  "  when  the 
j»-olden  sands  of  California  call,  the  rich  soil  of  New 
Plampshire  will  respond.  I  will  buy  a  railroad  ticket 
to  any  spot  in  this  world,  or  the  next,  you  may  suggest, 
})rovi(led  it  gives  me  your  company.     Only  let  us  have 


".»^'^ 


:v^iJi.»,-A^^  .'-V 


THE    PARTING. 


I'lIK    I'AIM'INC. 


u 


JiU'k  ()s<>()(hI  aloiio-  witli  us,  lor  lie  and  I  arc  lioiiiid  to 
|>icl<  ii|)  a  littlo  paying"  iiiscstiiu'iit,  occasionally,  wlici- 
uvcr  we  j;'o,  unless  dillcrciit  anaiii;cinciits  prevail  tlicic 
troiii  what  wo  iiave  in  New  llaiiipsliirc,"  and  then, 
lilting*  his  heaver,  tiie  tall,  ^ray-headed  Yankee,  horn 
trader  and  traveller,  typt^  «>l  that  i-ner^y  and  ronra^c 
which  have  threaded  tlu'ir  strength  and  color  into  the 
warp  and  woof  ot  the  continent,  and  whosi;  shrewd 
remarks  and  quaint,  rippling'  humor  had  heen  hall'  th(> 
lite  of  the  partv,  led  us  oil'  in  that  roval  old  hit  (d' 
loviu<»'  sentiment,  — 

"Should  auld  iicquaintani'L'  he  forgot 
And  never  hiou^ht  to  mind  ? 
Should  auld  atMiuaintance  he  forgot 
And  (lays  of  aukl  Lang  Synu?  " 

We  sanjif  it  hravely,  we  lour  ^ray-headed  men,  stand- 
ino'  on  the  deck  of  the  steamer  with  the  [»ur)>le  lii;ht 
of  the  early  j^loaming*  upon  us.  iS'or  did  we  sin^  it  far 
as  a  (piartette  ;  for  on  the  deck  were  other  wanderers 
like  ourselves,  far  from  friends  and  honu'.  and  amono- 
them  a  <»Toup  of  Scottish  innnij^rants,  red-haired,  ronj;h- 
bearded,  and  who  were  as  res])onsive  to  the  lirst  note 
of  the  <»Tand  old  stave  as  powder  is  to  the  s])ark,  and 
whose  stronj*'  voices,  with  their  hroad  accent,  joined 
in  with  such  a  rush  and  roar  of  sound  as  the  (yam]>- 
bells  brouii'lit  with  them  win  n  thev  chariicd  into 
Lucknow. 

At  the  clovse  ?  Well,  there  were  tears  in  our  ev<'s. 
You  need  n't  kiuj^h,  youno-  man.  Wait  till  you  <»et 
on  toward  your  eveninj^',  and  know  what  home,  country, 


liliS 


DAYLKJIIT    LAND. 


and  j)iiitiii<^s  mean.  You  will  never  |;':i<;ii  then  at  the 
nohle  nioisteninj;'  of  eyes.  As  I  eanu;  oil'  the  boat  1 
ran  aj^ainst  a  l)i<;"  Australian  who  had  just  parted  at 
the  gate  with  his  wife. 

"  Bei»-  pardon,"  lu;  said,  "  I  did  n't  see  you  connn«»-." 
"  1   l)e<»'  your  pardon,"   1    returned,  "  1   did  n't  see 
you  eitlier.  " 

Then  we  looked  at  eaeh  other,  and  we  both  saw  why 
we  had  iiut  seen  ! 


Vv'ORKS  BY.  VV.  H.  H.  MURRAY. 


DAYLIGHT    LAND. 

The  ILxprriiiicrs^  Jiuid.-iits,  and  AtiTc/ifiiirs,  I luniorcus  and  Otlur- 

wisc,  7iihiih  Ih-fcll  yti(li;r  joilN    I  )<i|.;,  'J'oitiisI,  of  San  J'rancisat ; 

Mr.  Ckimias  I'KiM'KKKr,!,,   Caf^italist,  of  Boston :  C'danr! 

(lOi'Kii,  ///(•  Man  from  iW^u  Jlavipshirr,  and  ilh'crs 

others,   in   their   Parlor- Car  Jixeiirsion  oi'er 

Prairie  and  Mountain  ;  as  reeorded  and 

set  forth  f>y\\.  W.  II.  Murray. 

Superbly  illustrated  with  150  cuts  in  various  colors  by  the  best  artists. 

( !()Nri:.\i's  :  Intnidiiction — Tlic  Meeting — A  r.ronkf;isl — A  Very  Ilnpf- 
fill  Man  —  'I'lu'  l«ig  XcpiLjon  Trout  —  'I'lic  Man  in  tiit  Vclvclcin  Jac  kti  —  'I  lie 
Capitalist  —  ('amp  at  Rush  I,akc — ISij;  (Janic  —  A  Strange  Midniuhl  Kide  — 
Uanff — Sahliatii  among  the  Mountains —  Nameless  Moimtains  —  'V\\c  (Iieat 
(ilaeier  —  The  Hermit  of  Kra/iT  Canon —  i'ish  and  I'ishing  in  Urilisii  Cohmi 
l)ia — Vancouver —  I'arting  at  N'icloria. 

Svo.  33.S  ]);i!i;cs.     Unique   ])apcr  hoards,  52.50;  ilotli,  53So;  clotli.  liMI 

,i;ilt,  54-00. 

Mr.  Murray  lias  ciiDsen  tlic  iioitli western  side  of  the  coniiiient  for 
(lie  scene  of  tiiis  book  ;  a  region  of  country  wiiii  h  is  little  know  In  tin; 
avcraije  reader,  hut  which  in  its  scenery,  its  i^anie,  and  its  vast  mateiial 
and  undeveloped  resources  su|)plies  the  author  with  a  i-uhicMt  which  has 
not  been  trenciied  ujion  even  by  the  matja/ines,aiid  whii  h  he  has  treated 
in  t'  at  lively  and  spirited  nianner  foi'  \vlii(  h  he  is  cspecialh' ;;ifted.  The 
result  is  a  volume  full  of  novel  information  of  the  country,  hnnioious 
and  jiathetic  incidents,  vivid  descriptions  of  its  mafinifuent  si  enerv, 
shrewd  ibrecasts  of  its  future  wealth  and  greatness  when  developed,  il- 
lustrated and  embellished  with  su(  h  lavishness  and  ;;rtisti(  eleganci' as 
has  never  before  been  attempted  in  any  similar  work  in  this  i  (uintry. 

77i(-  ('ri//<,'m  a  rceeiil  issue,  receiving  the  illustrated  edition  of  l)aii(ht's 
"  Kolierl  llelmont,"  savs,  "  \Vc  wonder  if  the  time  will  ever  come  wlun  the 
creations  of  our  own  writers  will  he  interiueled  with  e(|ual  syni|iatiiy,"  and,  in 
view  thereof,  \\v  would  respectfulh  submit  the  above  hook  to  tlu-  c  rities  and 
the  i)ubiic  at  large  in  evidence  that  the  long-desirecl  time  has  now  arrived. 

CUPPLliS   AND    IIURD,    PUBLISHliUS, 
BOSTON,  MASS. 

Por  otlicr  />oot:s,   M'r  n<xt /"tij^v. 


'I 


ADIRONDACK   TALES. 

By  \V.  H.  H.  Ml'RRAY. 

Jlliistrated.     121110,  300  pages,  $1.25. 


C()A'/7':A7S. 


Was  it  Suicide  ? 
The  (lamhlcr's  Deatii. 
The  Ok!  IJeggar's  Dog. 
Tiic  Hall. 
Who  was  he .' 


John  Norton's  Clirisinias. 
Ileniy  Herbert's  Thanksgiving. 
A  Strange  Visitor. 
I.ost  in  the  W^oocls. 
A  Jolly  Cam]). 

Comment  on  these  seem  almost  superfluous,  so  well  are  they  known 
and  appreciated.  The  quaintness  and  upright  sturdiness  of  Jolin  Nor- 
ton, the  weird  "Strange  Visitor,"  the  solemnity  of  "  The  (Gambler's 
Death"  in  the  very  heart  of  nature,  the  deep  patlios  of  "The  Old 
Beggar's  Dog,"  the  spontaneous  jollity  of  "The  Ball,"  the  mystery  of 
**  Was  it  Suicide  .'' "  and  "  Who  was  he  ?  "  all  appeal  most  powerfully 
to  our  many-facetted  nature.  /\nd  over  all,  and  in  all,  and  through  all, 
is  the  charm  of  Mr.  Murray's  individuality  expressed  in  his  unique 
style.  Critics  have  in  vain  endeavored  to  define  that  (juality  in  a  hook 
which  renders  it  api^reciated  by  everv  reader;  we  all  know  that  it  ex- 
ists, but  it  eludes  all  effort  to  crystallize  it  into  a  phrase. 

'I'hese  stories  are  full  of  that  subtle  charm,  and  their  daily  increasing 
popularity  abundantly  testifies  to  the  fact. 


ADVENTURES    IN  THE  WILDERNESS; 

Or,  Camp  Life  in  the  Adirondacks. 

Bv   W.   H.   H.   MURRAY. 

Illustrated.    i2nio,  $1.25. 
COJV'JEATS. 


Introduction. 

CHAP. 

1.  The  Wilderness. 

2.  The  N-^"!"'"'-^'  '^rcek. 
RiMirang  the  Rapid. 
The  P.all. 
I  -oon-Shooting  in  a  Tluinder-Storm. 


3- 

4- 

5- 


CHAP. 

6.  Crossing  the  Carrj'. 

7.  Rod  and  Reel. 
iS.    I'hantom  Falls. 
9.    Jack-Shooting  in  a  Foggy  Night. 

ID.    Sabbath  in  the  Woods. 
II.    A  Ride  with  a  Mad  Horse  in  a 
Freight  Car. 

This  book,  originally  ]niblished  twenty  years  ago,  is  now  republished 
in  response  to  repeated  general  inquiries.  Many  will  remember  its 
immense  popularity  at  the  time  of  its  first  issue,  when  it  practically 
directed  the  ?.ttention  of  the  American  jjublic  to  an  unknown  section 
of  their  country  ;  and  earned  for  the  author  the  sobriquet  of  "  Adi- 
rondack" Murray. 

Distinguished  as  an  orator,  he  then  introduced  to  the  reading  world 
those  wonderful  gifts  of  descriptive  writing,  genuine  humor  and  pa- 
thos, and  complete  symjiathy  ,vith  Nature  in  her  various  moods,  which 
have  now  become  so  well  known,  and  this  work  will  ever  be  found 
fresh  and  breezy,  picturesque  and  amusing,  besides  being  one  of  the 
Ijest  guide-books  extant  to  the  onderful  and  beautiful  region  of  which 
it  treats. 


I 


a  'Brief  i3iograpl)t 

Of 

W.   H.   H.    MURRAY. 


W.  H,  H.  Murray  was  born  in  1840  at  (aiilforcl.  Connecticut. 
His  earliest  characteristic  was  love  of  books,  lie  was  born 
with  a  passion  for  knowledge.  Before  entering  college  and  dur- 
ing his  course  he  studied  poetry  and  hclhs-lcttres  under  I'itz- 
Greene  Ilalleck,  the  poet,  with  whom  he  was  a  great  favorite. 

Mr.  Murray  was  graduated  from  \ale  in  the  class  of  "62. 
While  at  Yale,  he  was,  above  all  else,  a  reader  of  books.  Plis 
memory  was  extraordinary,  and  he  seemed  incapable  of  forget- 
ting. A  book  once  read  was  his  at  call  forever.  The  great 
object  of  all  his  reading  and  study  was  his  native  tongue.  He 
mastered  English  literature  from  beginning  to  date.  lie  read 
everything ;  he  read  critically,  and  he  never  forgot  what  he  read. 

After  his  graduation  he  studied  theology  at  East  Windsor 
and  under  private  teachers.  His  first  engagement  as  preacher 
was  as  assistant  to  Dr.  Edward  Hatfield,  1).  1).,  New  V'ork  City. 
This  engagement  terminated  with  Dr.  Hatfield's  resignation. 
He  then  served  at  Washington,  Litchfield  Co.,  (!onn.  ;  Green- 
wich, Conn.  :  Meriden,  Conn.  ;  at  Park  Street  Church,  IJoston. 
seven  years  ;  Music  Hall,  Independent  Congregational  Church, 
three  years,  —  fifteen  years  in  all  of  steady,  continuous  service. 
From  preacher  to  a  small  country  congregation,  his  abilities  and 
laborious  studentship  lifted  him  in  six  years  to  the  leading  pul- 
pit in  his  denomination.  In  boston,  then  as  now  the  most  lit- 
erary city  in  the  country,  —  whose  pulpits  and  platforms  had 
been  for  fifty  years  their  pride,  where  eloquence  of  the  highest 
order  was  familiar  to  all,  —  he  remained  for  ten  years,  preach- 
ing to  larger  audiences  every  Sunday  than  any  other  preacher 
in  the  land,  and,  with  one  exception,  as  a  pnl/'it  oratoi\  witlK)ut 
a  peer. 

At  the  close  of  these  fifteen  years  of  service  he  retired  from 


the  ministry  and  tlic  clerical  iirotcssion,  and  nilerotl  upon  a 
course  of  study  best  calculated  in  his  opinion  to  lit  him  for  au- 
tiiorship  and  the  platform,  broadly  interpreted,  lie  went  abroad 
and  made  a  thorou,i,di  examination  of  ICn^lish  c jnnnercial  meth- 
ods,—  her  trade  relations,  her  land  system,  and  the  tendency 
of  her  social  and  |)olitical  forces,  lie  remained  a  close  ol)ser\er 
of  the  threat  battle  between  Gladstone  and  D'Israeli.  which  ended 
in  the  triumph  of  the  former,  and  then  returned  to  his  own  coun- 
tr\-  and  entered  upon  a  study  of  the  resources  and  characteris- 
tics of  this  continent.  To  this  investij^ation  he  devoted  six 
years,  and  when  he  has  completed  his  present  extensive  tour 
he  will  have  personally  visited,  with  the  exception  of  Alaska, 
every  representative  section  of  the  continent  l)etween  Hudson's 
Bav  and  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  and  between  Newfoundland  and 
\'ancouver.  I'"ew  public  or  literary  men,  if  any,  have  studied 
so  thcjroujijhly  the  resources  of  this  continent,  and  the  vast  prob- 
lems jjjrowinj;  out  of  our  continental  development,  as  Mr.  Mur- 
ray. It  is  j^reatly  to  be  desired,  from  every  point  of  view,  tiiat 
one  so  well  ecpiipped  for  intelliij;ent  and  candid  discussion  of 
these  problems  may  be  constrained  l)y  ])opular  encouragement 
to  do  so. 

In  his  self-command,  in  his  reserve  for  e,  in  the  purity  of  his 
lani^ua^e,  almost  wholly  Saxon,  in  cpiiet  intensity  and  <;race 
of  style,  in  dii:;nity  of  bearini;,  in  clearness  of  statement,  in  the 
fmish  of  his  sentences,  and  in  charm  of  his  manner,  he  stands 
alone,  althou;;h  su<;j;esting  comparison,  in  one  or  more  of  these 
attributes,  with  man  /  great  writers. 

Three  years  ago  lie  began  to  read  his  now  celebrated  story, 
"I  low  John  Norton  the 'I'rapper  kept  his  Christmas,"  and  the 
people  have  insisted  on  hearing  the  author  render  this  quaint, 
humorous,  and  pathetic  bit  of  realism  until  it  has  already  passed 
its  three  hundred  and  fiftieth  delivery  from  the  platform,  and 
has  been  sold  in  book-form  by  thousands. 


hI  upon  a 
111  f(;r  ;iu- 
;nt  abroad 
■cial  mctli- 
tendcncy 
L'  ol).scr\cr 
licli  ciulccl 
own  coun- 
laractcris- 
votcd  six 
isive  (our 
:)f  Alaska, 
1  ludson's 
Hand  and 
e  studied 
vast  prob- 
Mr.  Mur- 
view,  tlial 
:ussion  of 


ira,Li;enicnt 


rity  of  his 
md  grace 
lit,  in  tlic 
le  stands 
of  these 

ed  stor\-, 
'  and  the 
is  quaint, 
ly  passed 
orm,  and 


